A Life For A Life
by asdarknessdescends
Summary: What if Gale had been reaped instead of Peeta? THG told in Gale's POV as he goes into the Games with Katniss. Will the outcome be what everyone expects it to be?
1. The Reaping

**Author's Note: Hello there! Long time reader, first time writer on this site. I made this story from my own perspective so if the characters seem a bit OOC, I apologize. When I wrote this from my POV, obviously I had ladies get chosen first, but for the sake of how I went about this let us pretend the male got reaped first, okay? I'm running in a bit differently from the book by some details but please bear with me. Enjoy, lovelies!**

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><p>There was nothing but pure dread exalting from the pores of my skin as I steered my feet down the path to impending doom. Everyone tried to keep their faces intact, deploring bravado instead of fear as we were all escorted into our confined sections, like livestock getting caged before demise sets upon them. That's what it's like right now as we get ready to see if one of us gets chosen to be sent off to our ultimate death.<p>

Heart pounding so loud, and blood rushing so fast that you can hear the sound of it swooshing through your ear drums. Mouth parched because you've forgotten how to swallow after all your fear has risen a lump in your throat. Sweat begins to drip over your eyebrows and across the back of your neck but you can't wipe it away because all of your motor functions seem to have disabled as your brain tickers the mantra: death, death, death. It was like some annoying flashing banner that you couldn't switch off.

My ears make out a noise over the roar of people around me. It's a woman speaking into a microphone, her overly sweet and cherry voice blasted through the speakers on the makeshift stage she was standing upon.

"Welcome, welcome." she crooned in a dulcet tone. "The time has come to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing District 12 in the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games."

There was an unpleasant gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach. This could very well be the beginning of the end for me. Not only if _I _happened to be reaped, but what if someone close to me also got chosen?

"Let's start off with our male tribute, shall we? May the odds be _ever_ in your favor."

The woman, Effie Trinket, an overly bubbly person who looked like a decoration for a pastry cake with her pasty white skin and exaggerated pink outfit, thrust her manicured hand into the large bowl that had about a hundred folded up slips of papers inside. Slips of papers with names on them. One of those papers was going to announce the execution for someone.

A second later, Effie brought her hand back up, raising the paper in front of her face and saying, "And our lucky competitor is..."

My heart was beating at what seemed like a thousand beats per second. I held my breath as the suspense gripped me. I prayed my name wouldn't be called. What were the odds of me getting picked? A hundred to one? No, I had my name repeated about a dozen times in that bowl. Things weren't looking so good for me.

"Gale Hawthorne."

The world and my heart stopped completely. Had I heard that right?

A hundred pairs of eyes locked in on me. I heard a few gasps and whispers. I was frozen, unable to process the idea that I was going to be sentenced off to my own death.

Someone pushed me, smacking me out of my daze. My senses were returning, and even though everything seemed to be spinning on a tilted axis, I ordered my legs that felt like bags of lead to go onward to the podium. As I walked down the aisle, all I could think was: _I am going to die_.

I kept my face smooth, appearing unfazed by this unexpected turn of events. But really, all I wanted to do was curl up on my knees and vomit.

My face was being captured on every screen hanging above the stage, sending the image to every television set across Panem. Screens that were reflecting different versions of my serious face in every angle imaginable.

"Congratulations." Effie said cheerily once I finally reached her.

There was no way in hell that I was going to come anywhere as close to being excited about my foretold death as she was. I didn't feel proud in any way, shape, or form. All because I knew that I would be one of the first to go once I stepped foot in the arena full of blood thirsty teenagers who were aiming for survival and the glory that came with being a victor.

I once had so many things to live for, so many goals to accomplish. Now everything was being ripped away from me. There was nothing left to bind me to this world anymore.

I didn't have time to breathe down an exhale to calm myself down before I heard Effie speaking again.

"And our female tribute will be-"

_Not her_, I thought. _Please not her_.

"Katniss Everdeen."

_No. No! _This can't be happening.

I lost my balance, keeling over as I stumbled and crouched down low against the staircase. With one hand on the ground to stop my fall, and the other covering my mouth, I struggled to keep control over myself but it seemed like a losing battle.

No one even noticed as I literally broke down. They were all paying attention to the female approaching the stage. Now the screens cast closeups of Katniss's hardened face. Her gray eyes looked clouded yet determined, but I could tell that she was trying not to loose her cool. Unlike me.

This was just my luck. It was one thing to choose _me_ out of all the other names in that bowl, but then, to also pick the one person who I would give my own life for? Where was the justice in the world? Oh, right. There wasn't any. Not with the Capitol still in control.

My body trembled at the idea that this disastrous call of fate would mean that my hunting partner and best friend was going to become my future opponent. Someone I had to potentially kill or get killed by.

Damn everything. The odds had certainly _not_ been in my favor.

I propped myself back up into an upright position as Katniss took her place beside me. We locked our eyes on each other and I gulped nervously.

What did this mean for our futures? Our families?

As I stared into her eyes, I knew that if I had to be killed by anyone's hand, I'd rather it be the girl I was in love with rather than some ruthless stranger. It would be noble to give up my life for someone I loved, wouldn't it?

My heart continued to pound wildly in my chest. My knees felt wobbly and weak. I've never felt so helpless before. It was uncomfortable, and I wondered if it was possible for a human to wither away into nothingness.

"Now here's the moment for anyone to come forth and take the place of any tribute."

My body felt very cold. I knew no one would come forward to take my place and sacrifice themselves for me. Not even my so called friends because they, like myself, had families and reasons to live for.

The silence was torture. It was as if the Capitol were mocking us, letting us know that no one would save us, that no one wanted us to live.

"Well, if no one wants to come and volunteer then let's hear it for our tributes- Gale Hawthorne and Katniss Everdeen!"

I held out my hand for the overrated traditional bonding gesture, and Katniss grasped my hand firmly with her own. I didn't put any effort into my handshake. I was still trying not to fall over and pass out. Katniss gave my hand a gentle squeeze, reassuring me of her trust in me. Her face was unreadable. I knew she was worrying about her mother and sister. She was probably relieved that it was her who was chosen instead of Prim in the way I knew I was better off getting slaughtered compared to my kid brother Rory.

Was Katniss scared? She was doing a good job of hiding it. I probably looked like a wreck.

Our hands pulled apart and suddenly we were being escorted away by a group of Peacekeepers. They led us to the Justice Building where the only living victor of our district awaited us.

"Hmph." Haymitch Abernathy grunted as he saw us. "I guess you'll do."

I clenched my hands into fists. Did he really want to insult us under these circumstances?

"Let's save the introductions, shall we? You have one hour to say goodbye to your loved ones and then we hit the train."

I didn't want to say goodbye. That would actually be confirming that I wasn't coming back home. I might as well be signing my own death certificate.

"You-" Haymitch pointed at me. "go through that door on the left." He turned to Katniss. "And you take the door on the right. I'll meet you two back here when your time is up."

I glanced at Katniss, nodding at her in consolation before we parted our separate ways.

...


	2. Say Goodbye To Your Loved Ones

**Author's Note: Hey, everyone! Thanks for believing in my story ^_^ I'm working on three projects at the moment, including this fanfiction, so I'll try to update every Thursday night. No promises though. You see, I actually write everything down on pen and paper before I type it out, and I don't want to upload anything that I'm not happy with simply for the sake of posting something. My readers deserve quality work so that's that. Side note- did you all see the new clip when Katniss is upstaged by the pig? I made a photoset on Tumblr (link on my profile) if you'd like to see... Anyway, silly me forgot to post the disclaimer last chapter so I'll do it now.**

**Disclaimer: Despite what my amazing anonymous review may believe, I am not Suzanne Collins which means I do not own The Hunger Games. I'm not nearly that imaginative. I only own this idea for a fanfiction that the plot bunny gave me. I also own gratitude for all of you who are here with me along for the ride ;)**

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><p>The room is practically empty aside from the velvet couches and chairs assorted all around. This place must have been used as a lounging area. I awkwardly plop myself down on the seat closest to me.<p>

I try to think about my options only to realize that I don't have any. If only Katniss and I _had_ run away when we had the chance. It's like the Capitol knew about my plans all along and now they were punishing me for it.

The door opens and my family bursts in. At first, all I see are arms and legs hurdling towards me, and then the next thing I know, I'm being trapped as my siblings pile atop of me.

"Gale!" Rory yells out. "Don't let them hurt you."

I frown. I don't want to be making promises that I won't be able to keep.

"You can win, Gale." Vick mumbles against the fabric of my shirt as he clings on to me. "I know you can."

"I'll try," I said in consolidation.

I vowed to myself to at least try for them. Ever since our father died, Rory and Vick both looked up to me and I didn't want to let them down.

"Take care of yourselves alright?"

"You, too." Rory asserts.

The laugh that escapes me was dry and hollow. There wasn't a way to stay safe once I was at the mercy of the Gamemakers.

"I'll see what I can do." I say gravelly.

"You'll be okay, Gale. You have Katniss with you."

That bit of reality did nothing to make me feel any better. In fact, it had the opposite effect. The rules of the Hunger Games entailed that there could only be one winner. Either one or neither of us were going to be returning back to District 12.

I move my hand across my both of my brothers' backs in soothing circles. It's the only thing I can do to comfort them.

"Be good for mom." I advise. "Promise."

"Promise." the both of them repeat in unison.

"Whatever happens, I'll always be with you."

I want to tell them "like dad," but a lump has risen in my throat and I can't bear to speak the words.

"Boys," my mother says suddenly from the corner of the room. My brothers responded to her voice instantly, sitting up straight and looking over to her. "Let me speak to your brother now. Wait outside the door, please."

Reluctantly, two pairs of hands retract from me.

"Bye, Gale." Vick whispers, his voice cracking.

"You'll be back soon, you'll see." Rory says assuredly, but I know he can barely convince himself of that.

"Bye," I say softly at their retreating figures. I watch as their feet shuffle out the door, and just as quickly as they came in, they were gone.

My mother sighed heavily, clutching my baby sister in her arms. She walked over to me, taking the seat across from me. She was avoiding from looking at me. Once I saw a single teardrop streak down her sunken cheek I know it was because she didn't want to let me see her crying.

"I'm so sorry," she gasped out, her shoulders jerking violently as she tried to withhold her sobs. "I try to do everything I can to take care of you, your brothers, and Posy, and then the Captiol-" she shook her head furiously. "I can't lose you, too."

I felt so out of place, like I was somewhere else watching this scene unfold from another vantage point. My own skin felt unfamiliar and cold. I had no idea how to comfort my own mother. There was nothing I could say or do to have her believe that everything was going to be okay. Deep down, we both knew that our world could never be okay. No matter how hard everyone tried to survive, humanity would always remain in peril; at the hands of those in power.

"It's not your fault, Mom. Things happen."

I couldn't even recognize my own voice. It sounded fragile and insincere.

As much as I would like to point fingers at people, I knew this was no one's fault. No one deserved this. I wasn't going to revel over "what if...?" because that wasn't going to change anything.

My mom wiped her eyes with her free hand, keeping the other protectively wrapped around Posy who was smiling happily at me. The innocence of her pure child mind had no idea of what was going on.

"I could care less about the winnings. I only want you to come back." my mom pleaded. "I need you. And you're too young to..." her voice trailed off and I assumed it was because she couldn't even fathom the thought of my death let alone speak the possibility.

"I'm not going down without a fight," I said boldly. That was about the only thing I can be sure about. I wasn't going to give the Capitol the chance to have them make a fool out of me. If they wanted a show, that's what they were going to get.

"Of course." my mom said with shining eyes that reflected her pride. "I'd expect nothing less of you. You're brave. Just like your father. I believe in you, Gale."

"Thanks," I mumble, writhing my hands together. "I'm sorry I won't be around to help you out."

She shook her head again. "Don't worry about me. I'll find a way."

"Trade with the Everdeens if you can." I suggest. "Prim gets dairy products from her goat, and Mrs. Everdeen has medicines."

My mom frowns, making her appear much more older and worn down. "I'm not going to cause any trouble for them. I'll manage somehow."

There was no point in arguing with her. When there was a will, there was a way. She taught me that.

My mom leans forward and places her hand over my folded ones. "Watch over yourself. I know I raised you right and you'll have to do things you don't approve of, but you have to survive no matter what the cost."

It was sick how the Games worked. You had to give up everything you are. It was a test of endurance and mortality. Did you want to be ethical and noble or mutate into a ruthless killer in order to win? I wasn't a martyr, but I also wasn't a cold-hearted person who was enticed about murdering people who had never done anything against me. The other tributes were nothing but strangers to me, but they also have families expecting them back home. If I killed them, that wouldn't make me any better than the Capitol. Was I willing to sacrifice my humanity to become the victor? I was still undecided about that.

I couldn't come up with a reply so I merely nodded. I knew my mother's words translated into: "when you get into the arena- don't think."

"I'll go now." She stood up and kissed the top of my head before squeezing my shoulder tenderly. "Be careful. I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Mom."

Posy, who had been unreasonably quiet throughout this whole exchange, suddenly giggled and smacked my face playfully.

"Love you, Posy."

And with one last glance, my mom and sister disappeared out of my reach. It was unbearable. I've spent so much time trying to protect my family and now I was the one who needed to be saved. I couldn't afford to die and leave them all with nothing.

I sank further into the plush cushions of my chair, adjusting myself so I couldn't feel the wretched, empty feeling inside of my chest. I had no idea how much longer I had to wait for since I was sure that no one else would come to bid me farewell.

It was so quiet. Like the calm before the storm.

The door creaked open. I whipped my head around to see who had entered. I expected to see a Peacekeeper, but instead I was presented with a young girl with blonde braids and wide blue eyes.

"Prim?"

…...


	3. Boarding the Train

**Author's Note: Did everyone see that new clip of Katniss talking to Cinna? Also, the new TV spot where Prim says, "Just try to win." :D The countdown is slowly driving me insane. Anyway, I wanted to address something to my reviewer, Kathleen.**

**Dearest Kathleen, you've requested for me to add chapters in this story containing Katniss's POV. This was something I was hoping to avoid. Most novels don't jump POV's and I treat my stories as such. I don't like randomly changing perspectives so I'm afraid I won't be doing that. My apologies. BUT if I receive enough requests, let's say ten, I'll make a separate piece of the same story but as Katniss's version. How does that sound? Let me know!**

**Now that everything's cleared up, let's get on with the story. It's longer than the other chapters so I hope you're happy with it ^_^**

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><p>My eyes widen as I take in the appearance of my visitor.<p>

"Hi, Gale." Prim says in her soft voice. She walks over to the chair that my mother has previously vacated. She curls herself up, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around herself.

For a few minutes, we stare at each other, reflecting our remorse for one another. Prim's wide blue eyes were brimming with glistening tears that were on the verge of falling.

"I'm scared," she whimpered. "for you and Katniss."

"So am I."

She kicked her small feet out in front of her, dangling them over her seat. "This isn't fair. It should've been anyone else other than you two." she grit her teeth together. "I don't care if thinking that makes me a bad person."

I nearly wanted to laugh at Prim's remark. She is so mature for her young age.

"You're not a horrible person, Prim."

She puckered her lips into a pout. "Sometimes I can't tell what's right or wrong anymore."

"You're not the only one with that problem." I mumbled out.

Prim sighed heavily before holding her head in her hands. "I don't know how my mom and I will be able to survive. We were barely able to scrape by with Katniss hunting. Then she met you and things got better." she gave me a small smile, but it wasn't as genuine with her face covered in tears. "Don't tell her I said this, but she's been more pleasant since you became friends with her."

I chuckled under her breath. "Rory said something similar about me once."

Prim's pale cheeks flushed red at hearing my brother's name. Katniss and I both knew that our younger siblings were fond of each other.

"It's still true." Prim says sincerely. "Gale, whatever happens, you'll try to look after Katniss won't you?"

"Of course I will," I promise.

"I hope it doesn't come down to the both of you." her voice was so quiet that for a second, I thought I had imagined her saying that last comment.

"I'm sure I'll get picked off before that happens," I say bitterly as I begin to imagine how lethal the Careers must be this year.

"That's not what I meant." Prim retaliates, shaking her head. "You're part of our family, too. I wouldn't want to see you and Katniss turn against each other."

Her kind words seeped into me like a shot of warmth. Both Katniss and Prim were like family to me as well. Although, I cared for Katniss in more than a brotherly way. Not that anyone knew, of course. I was still convincing myself of confessing my feelings to her, but I have never found the right chance to lead up to it, and now my time was running out.

"So, do you have any advice for me?"

Prim's glum face looked thoughtful. "Remember you're a hunter, not a killer. Follow your instincts and the rest will follow."

I suddenly wished that Prim could be my mentor instead of Haymitch, the alcoholic.

I nodded, swallowing hard. "I'll try to keep that in mind."

"Good." she slid off her chair and stood up. "No hard feelings against anything that happens in the arena, okay?"

"Sure."

"I'd prefer if either you or Katniss ends up winning. Better for the District."

The winner of the Hunger Games would receive a large supply of food each month for a year for their home district. All the families in the Seam would fare better with extra food at their disposal. Another reason for me to fight extra hard.

"I only wish there was a way for the both of you to come back," Prim whined, her sweet voice cracking.

It was tearing me apart to see her so distraught. I opened up my arms, inviting her in. She threw herself at me, burying her face into my chest as she cried uncontrollably. I embraced her tightly, stroking her hair while trying not to lose a grip on reality myself.

Prim's wails eventually leveled down to low whimpers. She sniffled and hiccuped every now and then, her small body trembling with every sudden movement that she made. This only added to my internal suffering. The Hunger Games ripped families apart without any remorse. I couldn't see any point in it at all. Not with this young, kind-hearted girl in my arms who was spiraling into misery out of something that was beyond her control.

The door opened violently with a loud booming sound and a Peacekeeper came in, ripping Prim away from me like she was a rag doll. "Time's up," he said gruffly, yanking Prim's wrist as she crumpled to the ground as he quite literally began to drag her out kicking and screaming.

"Let her go!" I ordered, leaping out of my seat.

"Gale," Prim cried out, clawing at the Peacekeeper's hand. I swung a fist at the man, but someone else in a similar white uniform intercepted me, blocking my path. "Gale, be careful!" Prim shrieks.

Over the Peacekeeper's shoulder, I watch as Prim's wide blue eyes send me a desperate glance, a silent plea, but for what exactly I had no idea. A second later, she was gone.

I curse under my breath. Hard as I might try, I can never seem to protect the people I love from the damn authorities.

The other Peacekeeper shoved my shoulder, indicating with a jerk of his head to exit though the door.

With clenched teeth, I walk back out to the main entrance of the Justice Building. Haymitch was still waiting out here, but this time he has a drink in his hand. No surprise there.

The door down the opposite hallway opens and out comes Katniss, escorted by two other Peacekeepers. She appears almost bored, but I can tell that she's miserable by the darkness clouding her eyes. Katniss has always been good at hiding her emotions better than anyone else I know.

Haymitch waved us forward, carrying an irritated look on his face. "Ready?" he asks us.

There wasn't really any proper way of preparing one's self for this outcome. His question seemed redundant for that reason.

Katniss squared her shoulders and nods once. I take my place beside her, planting my feet solidly on the ground, poised for a fight.

"Let's get on with it," I say.

A Peacekeeper walks past us, opening the door behind the back of the building. There's a small dirt road that leads us over to the steel bullet train that will take us across the country in a matter of hours depending on the speed of it.

Haymitch climbs on board first, using the side rail to heave himself up the steps. I gesture with a wave of my hand for Katniss to go before me in a gentlemanly fashion. She glances at me with what looks like a bemused expression. I try to fight back a smile as I follow after her. The click-clacking sound of heels draws closer and then I see Effie Trinket joining us on the train.

The interior is furnished with polished wood and leather furnishings. It looks like a lavish home instead of an organic transportation vehicle.

Haymitch grunts at me and says, "Follow me." He turns to Effie and tells her, "You take the girl."

I half-smile at Katniss who looks at me warily, like she might be afraid of being away from me and left alone with her thoughts. But maybe I'm just imagining it.

I race after Haymitch who is already hurrying down the hall. He staggers when he walks so it's not hard to keep pace with him.

"This here-" he opens up a door. "will be your assigned chamber. The bedroom, bathroom, and the closet are all at your disposal. If you need anything else, you can order it through an Avox who comes around every once in awhile to clean up the room for you."

"Excuse me, a what?" I ask in confusion.

"An Avox." he clarifies. "Someone who committed a crime. They work as servants for the Capitol."

Maybe I better think twice before I do something to act as a rebel.

"Supper will be served in an hour, I'll come get you then."

"Okay, thank you." I say pleasantly. I figure I should try to be nice to Haymitch since he's my mentor and link to the sponsors that will try to keep me alive in the Games.

The door closes as Haymitch leaves like a noiseless shadow. The train rumbles to life underneath my feet and we're off.

...


	4. We're In This Together

**Author's Note: Hey, everyone! So, as we all know, The Hunger Games comes out in theaters next week! There's the issue that I won't be home at all next Thursday (I'm going to miss the new episode of The Vampire Diaries! T_T) because I will be attending the midnight premiere with my friends. This means that I won't be able to post a new chapter. Before anyone gets upset, I'll be back home on Friday and I'll post the new chapter then, alright? Now, I want to say a few words. First of all, thank you to everyone who has put their story on their "favorite" list. I do a happy dance when I see the alerts. Second, thank you to my reviewers. I cannot express how much your support means to me. Your kind words really brighten up my day and make me believe that I can become a stronger writer. On a final note, guess what? I have an A in my English Literature class! Can you believe it? ^_^ Okay, okay, onward with the story!**

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><p>I decide to take advantage of having an actual shower for the first time ever, and so, I open up one of the many drawers in the dresser that's located next to the closet and I pick out a dark gray T-shirt and black pants. I peek inside the closet, sliding the door open to find dozens of shirts, suits, blazers, jackets, and coats hanging on a single rack. It's a shame to have all this clothing go to waste simply for me. I pick out a black button down long-sleeve dress shirt and decide to add it to my outfit. I may as well take advantage of looking nice while I can.<p>

I head to the bathroom and drop my clothes off by the sink before I look at myself in the mirror. My reflection looks like a mess: hair disheveled, shadows under my eyes, cheeks hallowed, cracked lips, pale skin, and the slightest bit of scruff peeking around my mouth.

With a heavy sigh, I strip off my clothes and step into the shower. I'm completely stunned by all of the buttons and knobs on the control board. I press a red button and a jet stream of steaming hot water descends on me. I shout wordlessly as the water singes my skin until I find a knob that controls the temperature and I adjust it about ten degrees lower to a more tolerable level. I push another button, a green one, and a load of green colored foam rains down on me, clinging on to my body, dousing me with thick, minty smelling soap. I take a bristle brush from the shower caddy and start scrubbing it off.

_I'm going to smell like an air freshener, _I think to myself.

I make sure I'm thoroughly cleansed before switching off the shower by pushing the red button again. Under the control panel, there is another set of buttons. I flip a switch and a sudden gust of warm air blasts down as a large fan overhead turns on and starts to dry off all the remaining water on me in a matter of seconds. I flip the switch back down to disable the fan. Since there is no longer any need for a towel, I step out of the shower and start putting my new clothes on. My dress shirt has no creases, and the fabric forms well against me, making me look more buff than I actually am. The dark color of the material highlights my gray eyes and evens out my skin tone a bit so I appear less exhausted than I really am on the inside.

Once I'm fully dressed, I walk back to my appointed bedroom and throw myself on the large queen size bed. The mattress is so soft, it molds to my body shape to provide comfort from every angle imaginable. I try to relax but I still felt too on edge. I can't help but worry about my family. Did they make it back home okay? Did Mom have enough fish to prepare dinner with? Was Prim safe at home with her cat and mother to comfort her?

I roll on to my side, concentrating on the steadiness of my breathing until my eyes finally tire out and I succumb into slumber.

...

Three sharp raps hit against the door. I wince at the sound, squeezing my eyes closed. I don't want to move. I'm much too comfortable here.

"Boy!" I hear Haymitch holler. "Time for dinner!"

I groan as I rouse myself awake. "Coming," I shout back at him.

"Hurry up," he says gruffly.

I heave myself upright, pausing to stabilize my head rush, and swing my legs down to slip my feet into my boots. Once I'm ready, I open the door and see Haymitch leaning against the wall, taking a swig of white liquor from the bottle he has clasped in his hand.

"Took you long enough," he says.

"I was sleeping." I explain.

He raises his eyebrows in a bemused way. "Better you than me."

I have no idea what he means by that, and I don't find it in me to ask him. I follow Haymitch down the corridors, never daring to look outside the window and risking motion sickness by seeing how fast the train is going.

It doesn't take too long to reach the compartment where we're going to dine. As we make our way to the large table, I see Effie and Katniss entering the room. Katniss catches my eye and I give her a small smile.

Even though we are living under the worst circumstances possible, seeing Katniss back in her natural braid and wearing an outfit similar to one she might wear when we go hunting together, rises a bit of happiness inside of me. Well, as much happiness that I can conjure up during these wicked times.

I open up a chair for Katniss, allowing her to sit down before I can push her seat in. She raises an eyebrow as she sits down, taken aback by my chivalry. To deter her, I do the same pleasantry with Effie, who is all too thrilled by my action.

"My, my, what a gentleman you are!" she trills, clapping her hands together. "And what's your name?"

"Gale," I say dryly. She just announced it not that long ago, and she didn't care to remember it. Typical.

"Why, thank you, Gale." she says in a sugary voice. "Men these days are not very gracious while in the presence of a lady." Effie gives a pointed look to Haymitch but he doesn't even notice, he's too busy pouring the remaining contents of his bottle into a glass.

"You're welcome." I say curtly before taking a seat next to Katniss, who tells me, "You're acting different."

I keep my face serious and my voice cool as I tell her, "I'm trying to appreciate the time I have left with you."

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch her eyes widen as she processes my words. I don't know if she planned on answering me or not, but the food arrives and she turns away from me.

Everything comes in big platters, revolving around the table in courses. First, we have a thick carrot soup with a side of green salad. Then comes the entree of lamb chops accompanied by a hearty serving of mashed potatoes loaded with steaming gravy. I ignore the cheese and fruit, but hold no objection to the moist chocolate cake that is reserved for dessert. All of the food is so rich and flavorful that after a few bites, it practically melts in your mouth. I've never had this much food at my disposal before and I keep scooping up as much of it as I can into my mouth until I'm hardly able to chew properly.

"At least you two have decent table manners," Effie says to Katniss and myself during the main course. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion."

Looking at her overly powdered face for too long kind of makes me queasy, but you don't see me complaining about it. Those kids from last year- may they rest in peace- did nothing at all to her, and here she is, saying that they caused some horrific offense to taint her otherwise perfect life. I bet those kids hadn't even been taught to use silverware. The only reason I was using utensils at the given time was due to the company around me.

Katniss suddenly throws down her fork where it clatters noisily against her plate, and starts eating the rest of her meal with her hands. I laugh quietly to myself, amused that Katniss is trying to get her point across through her actions the way she always does. I decide to join her, shredding my meat apart with my fingers before sloppily stuffing it into my mouth. It becomes a game of who can eat more messily, and it's looking like a tie until Katniss wipes her hands on the tablecloth. Effie stares at us with a growing rage as she mashes her lips together.

Good. I hope she regrets her words now. She shouldn't judge the poor way of living when all she's known is what it's like to thrive among the rich and the famous.

After the four of us are done eating, we walk over to another compartment and sit down on a lavish sofa to watch the recap of the reaping that is being currently being re-broadcast through all of Panem. It's terrifying to see who our competitors will be. The tributes from District 2 appear to be the most threatening: a glaring brunette with a sadistic smile, and a heavily built boy who arrogantly volunteers before strutting up to the stage. I'll definitely have to keep my distance from them.

The presentation ends with our district, and I watch from an outsider perspective as Effie calls me on stage, followed by Katniss. The commentators say some stupid remark about how this year looks like an interesting year, and they tell viewers to tune in (like they have a choice) for the next television broadcast that will cover the Tribute Parade.

Just when you think the Capitol can't torture us enough by simply getting us entered into the Hunger Games, they come up with more ways of humiliating us. We have yet to get all fabricated and prettied up to get the inhabitants of Panem to want to sponsor us, and then there's also the bogus interview we have to do with the overly peppy Cesar Flickerman. I'm not sure what I'm looking least forward to. Everything sounds like I'll have to put on a show for the sake of the cameras, and that's not exactly something I'll be thrilled about doing.

Haymitch shuts off the television with the remote in his hand. "Tomorrow we start discussing strategies. I'll see you two in the morning."

Katniss wraps her fingers around my wrist. I turn to look at her, and we don't need any words to communicate. The flicker of determination in her eyes lets me know that we're in this together.

I nod once. "Goodnight, Katniss."

She releases me and nods once as well. "Goodnight, Gale."

We head off to our respective rooms. I ache for more sleep so I can dream of a world where the Hunger Games do not exist. A place where I can see Katniss's carefree smile for more than just a minute.

...


	5. Give Us Some Real Advice Then

**Author's Note: I'll rant about the movie at the bottom just in case no one wants any spoilers. Thanks to everyone who has alerts for this story. All of you make me so happy. I wanted to do a shout out to my wonderful reviewer, Ellenka. I think your writing is flawless and I'd like us very much to be friends. Our fanfictions seems to compliment each other, yes? ;)**

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><p>I'm running as fast as I can through a long, dark tunnel. I'm breathing so hard that my lungs feel like they're about to burst out of my chest.<p>

"Dad!" I shout. "Dad, where are you?"

The air is so thick down here underground that my voice carries out at only the half the volume that originally expelled out of me. It's too dark to see more than a foot ahead of me, and the canary stopped singing about a minute ago, warning me to get out of here before I suffocate to death, but I keep trudging on forward until I reach my destination. I'm not leaving without finding what I'm looking for.

I squint my eyes as I make out a figure struggling to move out in the distance.

"Dad!" I cry out as I sprint onward. I'm getting closer with every step I take, my feet are pounding hard against the uneven ground and I'm sure that I'm going to pass out any second because I'm running out of air and my vision is slowly fading away.

I throw my arm out in front of me, reaching out for what I know has to be there. I strain my fingers to move further out, but I grab nothing but still air. Around me, the walls suddenly crumble down and explode inward. Everything goes black.

"Boy!"

I wretch myself awake, gasping loudly.

_Just a dream_, I tell myself. Ugh, why couldn't this whole "getting reaped" ordeal turn out to be a terrible nightmare instead?

There's knocking at the door, and Haymitch's voice follows after it. "Boy, get up! If the sun is up, then you should be too!"

"I'm up!" I say, rolling myself out of bed. I repeat the procedure from last evening as I heave myself upright and throw the covers off of me before getting out of bed and slipping my feet into my boots. I walk over to the door and swing it open.

Haymitch is standing in front of me with her arms crossed over his chest. He looks at my rumpled appearance but doesn't comment on it. "Let's go," he says.

I follow him back to the dining cart that we were in yesterday. Katniss is no where in sight, but I see Effie busying herself with some blackish-brown liquid in a tea cup. I take my previous seat from last time, and before I'm even fully seated in my chair, I'm being served a platter of food that's bigger than my placemat.

My breakfast consists of scrambled eggs, ham, and a mountain of fried potatoes. The food is piping hot. I can see the steam rising off of it. Someone places a basket of bread rolls down next to my plate. I stare at them greedily, thinking of how that bread could curb my family's hunger for about half a week, at least. I try to push them out of my mind before I feel too guilty to eat at all. I look over to see a pitcher of orange liquid that I could only assume is orange juice since I've never had an orange in my life before. An empty glass is set before me and it gets filled with orange juice. I reach out to get it, and then I take a tentative sip. Tart, tangy, yet refreshing and sweet.

Haymitch swirls his food around his plate until it becomes one big colorful blob of mush and then he snaps his fingers, calling the attention of one of the waiters- an Avox- to bring out a plate of bacon.

When Katniss walks into the room, Effie waltzes past her, trying to balance her small cup in her hands. Katniss's eyes search for me, and when she sees me, I give her a large grin. She returns the smile in a more modest way. I know she reserves her truest smiles for me when we're alone.

"Sit down, sit down!" Haymitch waves her over.

Katniss hurries over to the table and I pull out her chair for her, anxious to have her take her proper place by my side.

"Thanks," she whispers as she sits down.

"Morning." I say in response.

She has a playful smirk on her face as she repeats "Morning" back at me. Even though the time and place might not be what we would naturally want to be in, we'll make do with suffering together. Nothing is going to change between us. I say "Morning" every time I first see her during the early day, and she'll say it back. It's a routine, like hunting together.

Another Avox appears to serve Katniss a duplicate of my breakfast plate. The other Avox from before returns with Haymitch's request of sizzling, greasy bacon.

Now that Katniss is here, I don't have to worry about eating without her, and so, I pick up my fork and begin shoveling the food into my mouth.

After Katniss scarfs down a few bites of food herself, she turns to Haymitch and says, "So, you're supposed to give us advice."

I swallow the food in my mouth, leaving my throat burning.

"Here's some advice. Stay alive." Haymitch says before he bursts out laughing.

I look at Katniss and give her a questioning look.

How is it possible that Haymitch can already look at us so low before we even had a chance to show him our strengths? How can he have no sympathy for us? Does he have no incentive to care about helping our chances of winning? Has all of that alcohol consumption made him inhumane?

"We're not laughing," I say sternly, reaching out to smack his glass away. It tumbles off the table and shatters to the floor in hundreds of glittering pieces.

Haymitch stares at me in surprise. I lift my eyebrows at him, silently challenging him to fight back.

At first, I think he's not going to do anything about it. He sighs heavily, pressing himself further into his chair as he looks down at the mess I've made. Then, as fast as the strike of a snake, his fist comes at me, but I'm faster than him, so I easily deflect it. I move my head out of the way with a sharp jerk of my neck, and I grab onto his wrist with my right hand. I throw his arm back at him, jostling him so hard that he nearly loses his balance and topples off of his chair. He steadies himself by grabbing onto the table, and he prepares to take another swing at me. Before he can do so, Katniss leans forward and drives a knife into the table, barely missing his fingers.

Haymitch shouts out wordlessly and yanks his hand away.

Katniss glares at him as she threatens him by saying, "Try to hit him again, and I'll find a bigger target to hit other than your hand."

I turn to look at her in amazement at how far she's willing to go to protect me. She catches my gaze and nods once. We're a team. We both know this, and it will forever remain a fact.

Haymitch narrows his eyes at us, like he's further determining what else we have up our sleeves. "Well, well, well..." he says. "Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"

"Hunters," Katniss corrects him. "We're hunters."

I comment in a grave tone, "What difference can it be, really?"

It's a dark thought, but that's what the Games are all about. Kill or be killed. None of us deserve to be placed into this position, but we have no control over it. We're all pawns in a wicked game of chess, and it's the Gamemakers who are controlling the board.

"All right," Haymitch says gruffly. "I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you. But you have to do exactly as I say."

A mentor who is going to attempt to care about our well-being is better than a drunk, sadistic one, I suppose.

"Give us some real advice then," I hinder.

"In a few minutes, we'll be pulling into the station. You'll be put into the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you, but don't resist."

Katniss tries to rebuke. "But-"

"No buts." Haymitch shakes his head. "Don't resist." he repeats with emphasis. He stands up and leaves, taking his bottle of liquor with him.

"How are you feeling?" I ask Katniss.

Her voice is sad and distant when she speaks. "You know that feeling of complete dread you had when you realized that your father wasn't coming back home?"

I remember that feeling all too well, and so does she, with her own father. We don't talk about it, but our feelings about the tragic event that took both our fathers are mutual.

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember."

"Something along those lines is how I'm feeling."

We pick at our food in silence until the train goes dark, indicating that we're crossing the tunnel that leads straight into the heart of the Capitol. After a few minutes, our cart is filled with bright light as the train begins to slow down.

I'm not entirely interested in seeing the Capitol's flamboyant architecture and the polished scenery because the entire city is artificial and cruel, just like its inhabitants. Still, I somehow end up walking over to the window as we pull into the station. The Capitol folk cheer and shout out excitedly as they see our Tribute Train arrive. I'm sickened by the way they all look so enthralled to participate in playing their part when it comes to watching our deaths.

"Catnip," I call out to Katniss, using my personal nickname for her. I wave her forward.

She quickly walks over to me, her eyes drinking in everything on the other side of the glass.

"They're sick," she states, speaking my thoughts out loud.

"I know," I agree wholeheartedly. "but just because it's their Games doesn't mean we can't fight back by playing dirty."

She arches an eyebrow, and I know she's interested in whatever my insane idea might happen to be. "Meaning?"

"Let's wave at our future sponsors." I suggest.

And so, we put on some fake smiles and wave at the people who could very well be our only hope in making it out of the arena alive.

...

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><p><strong>Author's Note: The movie was more than I expected it to be. I think it was simply remarkable how Gary Ross made it out to be so we were watching Katniss, and then, we suddenly became her. The swooping, disjointed camera angles were amazing. I felt like I was literally experiencing the moment with her. I absolutely loved seeing Gale's reactions when he had to watch Katniss play up the love story with Peeta in the cave. My heart ached for him. I was like, "No, Gale! It's okay, it's all for the Games!" T_T <strong>

**My favorite scenes: Gale and Katniss talking in the woods, Gale placing his hand on Katniss's neck and saying "Yeah, and it's going to be you" when they say their goodbyes, Katniss shooting at the Gamemakers during her training session and Haymitch congratulating her for doing it, Rue taking Cato's knife during training, Katniss and Peeta running like hell when the mutant dogs are chasing after them, Katniss going ballistic after Peeta's interview, and the ending when Katniss and Peeta return home and Gale is carrying Prim on his shoulders! Aww! **

**Moments that made me cry: Prim getting reaped, and Rue dying (you must be a robot if you don't get emotional during that scene).**

**Little details I enjoyed: Prim tucking in her shirt before going on stage, Peeta shaking his head at Katniss before the Games officially started, President Snow plucking his rose, and the little notes that came with the parachute gifts. **

**Extra things I care to mention: I think the movie lived up to the hype. I'm really happy with it. I think the actors played their roles right, and it all collaborated perfectly to get the main motive of the story eloquently captured though film. **

**Tell me your thoughts in a review or PM, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!**


	6. The Tribute Parade

**Author's Note: Happy Thursday everyone! To those people who tell me to "please update", my update schedule is every Thursday night around 10PM (PST). It's the only time I have that doesn't interfere with my schoolwork so please work around that for me. Also, I appreciate everyone who is enjoying the story so far. I'm writing this for fun, and I originally made this as a personal version which would make me Gale, and my non-existent significant other to be Katniss, I suppose lol. Anyway, I just wanted to address that if you have any issues with how I'm going about this. My writing is not perfect, and obviously I'm going to do things differently in this plot. In the words of Katniss Everdeen, "Thank you for your consideration" and here we go!**

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><p>Katniss and I are escorted by Peacekeepers to the Remake Center. We get separated to our assigned areas where each tribute gets manhandled by our personal prep team.<p>

A woman with bright yellow hair instructs me to take off my clothes and lie down on a raised platform. I grit my teeth and do as she says. More people, who look equally ridiculous in their fluffed up chicken coop styled hair and glossy outfits show up, and then the plucking and prodding begins. First, my hair gets washed, and I hear the snipping of scissors as they start clipping off the frayed ends. Someone starts tweezing my eyebrows because they're "too bushy", and each tug is painful. I feel water on my feet, but I'm being held down by a different pair of hands so I can't look down. I assume they're giving my feet some sort of treatment, cleaning my toes in a more delicate manner than I would ever bother doing.

After what feels like an hour later, they're still fixing up my face. They shave off my barely there scruff and apply this thick cream that stings at first but cools down after a few seconds. My entire body gets scrubbed down and by then end of all the rough cleansing I feel like a plastic doll with raw skin.

It seems like forever until the woman with yellow hair says, "There's not much else we can do with him. He already has a handsome face. He made our work easier on us."

"Indeed." another woman says. She has dull green skin and wild purple hair, making her look like some creature from the sea. "I believe he's ready for Portia." she has a wicked smile on her face as she says, "I'll bet she'll have a ball once she gets her hands on him."

I gulp nervously. I'm not sure how much more I'll be able to resist until I protest. I know what Haymitch said, but I can only withstand so much. I can barely handle allowing these Capitol freaks to ogle and reconstruct me into something unrecognizable.

My prep team leaves the room, squealing like those annoying girls from school. Good riddance.

I stare at the ceiling as I wait for my next round of torture. I don't have to wait very long, the door opens and a woman with satin light brown skin, wearing a wig of poofy white blonde hair enters the room.

"Gale, is it?" she asks in a soft, childlike voice.

"Yes." I confirm.

"Congratulations, Gale. I'm your stylist, Portia, and I'm going to help you look marvelous."

"Er...okay." I say awkwardly.

She smiles and claps her hands together. "My goodness, you're the most attractive tribute I've ever gotten. Once I'm done with you, you'll have everyone fighting to be your sponsor."

I can't help but say, "I hope so."

"Don't you worry, dear." she croons. "So, my partner, Cinna, who is the stylist for the girl tribute, he and I both decided on complementary costumes."

"Coal miner outfits?" I question in disdain.

The opening ceremonies dictate that every tribute pairing must be dressed in a costume that represents their home district. Since District 12 is represented for our coal mining, every year the stylists seem to create new ways of mixing up headlamps and pickaxes with skimpy clothing and call that a suitable outfit.

"No, the coal miner image has been played out too much. No one ever pays attention to it. We want to try something different. We want to light you up so you can sparkle and shine!"

I press my lips together. I have no idea what she's getting at, and I don't like the idea of being transformed into some human version of a disco ball if that's what she means.

"So, what's the plan then?" I ask nervously.

She looks at me seriously and asks, "How do you feel about fire?"

…..

I bite my tongue as I dress myself into a black unitard that covers me from my neck to my ankles. I'm not used to wearing such tight fitting material. It feels so unnatural, like an extra layer of unnecessary skin. Every time I move, the fabric stretches with me. I guess this is better than being sent off completely naked and covered in coal dust.

Portia hands me a pair of black leather boots that reach up to my knees. I lace them up while she secures a cape around my neck. I feel like some dysfunctional super hero about to go off and attempt to fight crime.

"Okay, let me look at you." Portia says before cupping my face in her hands and examining me closely. "I'm just going to touch up your eyes a little. You don't need much work."

She brings out a big silver box and opens it to reveal a large makeup kit. She takes out a small brush and dabs it into a jar of beige colored liquid. "This is concealer for those dark circles you have." she explains, applying the loaded brush to my face.

It takes her about ten minutes or more to put some light eyeshadow on my eyelids, and lather my face and neck with moisturizer. Portia says that the shine from the formula in the bottle will make my skin appear to be glowing against the brightness of the flames. Lastly, she rubs some kind of wax into my hair so that the ends spike up a bit, giving it a windswept look.

"You look absolutely lovely," Portia gushes as she cleans off her hands on a damp towel. "Let's go, dear." she drops her towel on the table and ushers me out. I feel utterly insecure and foolish as I walk out in public wearing this silly costume. What I fear the most right now is that Katniss will look at me and laugh.

Portia and I walk over to an elevator that takes us down to the bottom level of the Remake Center, and we approach Katniss and a man, who must be none other than Cinna, in the back of the line of tributes who are waiting to be loaded into their proper chariots.

Katniss sees me, and her jaw drops. She looks like she's refraining from laughing her head off.

"I know," I say sheepishly. "I look ridiculous."

Katniss clasps her hands over her mouth as she shakes with laughter. "No, no," she chokes out in between hearty chuckles. "It's just... okay, maybe you do look a bit _different_, but you still pull off the costume. Really."

"Thanks, I guess," I say before letting out a few chortles myself. We're wearing identical outfits, but Katniss looks less awkward than I do.

Cinna and Portia help us into our chariot, telling us to stand close together, keep our heads up, and smile the whole time. If it were anyone but Katniss at my side right now, I don't know if I could go through with this.

"What do you think about the fire?" Katniss whispers to me as our stylists consult with each other.

"I think they're crazy," I sneer. "but..."

"But what?"

I twitch my lips. "Haymitch said not to resist whatever they do to us."

"Are you willing to risk getting burned to death?"

I laugh, but the sound comes out empty. "Death is coming soon enough. What's a little fire compared to that?"  
>Katniss scowls at me. "You shouldn't count yourself out so soon."<p>

I don't answer her because now is not the time to argue about our chances in the arena.

The opening music blasts through the entire Capitol, and these huge metal doors slide open to reveal the large center street that we'll be riding through momentarily. The tributes from District 1 are released first from the lineup. They're glistening in silver body paint and they dazzle when the spotlights hit against the jewels adorning their tunics. The audience goes wild when they see them. I can only hope that we get a similar reaction from them as well.

Cinna returns to us, holding out a lighted torch in his hand. "Here we go then," he says, touching the flame to our capes and setting them on fire.

Katniss gasps while I hold my breath, waiting for the flame to burn through and spread until we're both engulfed with unbearable heat. The feeling never comes. The flames stay on the cape, flickering and burning, like an airborne stream of fire.

Cinna lets out a sigh of relief. "It works." He jumps off the chariot and instructs us to hold hands.

My stomach flops uneasily. I've never held hands with Katniss. We've never had any reason to before. Cautiously, I hold out my hand and Katniss stares at me, gauging my reaction as she slips her hand into mine. Our fingers instinctively twine together and interlock like slithering anchors. Katniss looks so mesmerizing against the background of the fire, but her face remains its usual form of seriousness.

"Smile," I remind her.

Her hand gives mine a gentle squeeze for support. "You, too."

In the next second, the dark stallions pushing our chariot haul us forward and we're thrust out behind the District 11 chariot to close out the parade. Before Caesar Flickerman's voice can finish booming out, "And here's District 12!", the audience is already captivated by us, pointing and screaming as they take in our extravagant entrance. I force a smile on my face and look up to see Katniss and myself blown up on the big screens that decorate the Town Square. Our faces are illuminating like a warm candle glow, making us appear to be equally beautiful and deadly.

I've never had so much attention on me before. It's nerve wracking. Now that the fire is no longer a fear, all I'm worried about now is falling off this thing. Katniss seems to share my concern about being tumbling onto the street because she's clasping onto my hand with such a strong grip that the bones in my fingers are blistering with pain, but I don't mind. If she needs me to give her strength, then I'm not going to complain about it.

The cameras never seem to stray off our faces, and Katniss is struggling to keep her smile looking genuine. I duck my head down and press my lips to her ear and say, "Smile, Catnip. For Prim. For me." I can't tell if she's blushing or not, her whole face is radiating with a pink flush from our flaming capes, but nevertheless, my words sink into her and the next thing I know, she puts on her most beautiful smile and even starts waving at the audience. The Capitol's surrogates clap and cheer even louder if that's possible, throwing flowers in our direction as our chariots rolls on by. I hear Katniss's name being screamed out, and then, a mixture of both our names together. No one will forget us after this fiery debut we've made.

When we reach the City Circle, Katniss loosens her grip on my hand but I refuse to let her go.

"No," I plead. "Not yet."

Katniss reaffirms her grasp on my hand, and we keep each other steady as our chariot makes the last round and we pull up behind all the other tributes.

President Snow, an elderly man with white hair, appears on a high balcony and begins to address the official welcome. I mouth to Katniss, "This is horrible!" and she mouths "I know!" back to me. We don't suppress our laughter.

After all of the relentless announcements that go on and on about what an honor it is to have the Games, the tributes are directed to enjoy their night and prepare for tomorrow's training. Our chariot swings around the building and we head inside the Training Center. When the doors shut behind us, every stylist in the room runs over to their assigned pair of tributes. Cinna and Portia appear, each of them carefully helping us off of our chariot. I wobble as I place my feet back on stable ground as I'm lurched forward by Katniss's hand still clasped with mine. We stand together, hand-in-hand, and I can't help but already feel like a victor.

"You two make quite a pair," Cinna compliments us as Portia extinguishes our flaming capes by spraying something on them.

Katniss and I exchange glances with each other. We put on a good show tonight. I'm feeling a mixture of pride and slight annoyance. All the other tributes are shooting us dirty looks because we've out shown them all, but I could care less about them. Katniss is more confident that I've ever seen her since before we were reaped. She is breathtaking, and I feel so elated to be here so close to her.

"Nice job, you two."

Katniss and I turn around to see Haymitch and Effie walking towards us. Haymitch looks much more cleaned up since we last saw him this morning, and Effie... Well, she's dressed up in a frilly purple dress and matching wig now.

"Let's go upstairs." Haymitch says, leading us to the elevator.

...


	7. Somewhere Only We Know

**Author's Note: It's short, I know. I'm thinking of updating every other week so I have more time to write and give you all more product to read. I'm really sorry. I'm actually on my week off from school at the moment, but I still have trouble managing my time. Hope you all understand. A quick thanks to everyone who reviewed. You're all so sweet! :')**

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><p>"The rooms go according to each district so you two get the penthouse." Effie chirps delightfully as we ride to the top floor.<p>

Our elevator ride is short and silent. Effie steps out first, then Katniss, who lurches me along with her since our hands are still linked together. Effie points down the hallway, saying we can go freshen up before dinner. Then she starts talking about how proud she is of our presentation, and how she's trying to win us sponsors. I'm not really listening. I'm too busy looking at the furnishings in here, wondering how the Capitol can afford all of this, and then I think it's because they leave the rest of us with practically nothing. We're merely the manufacturers for them. We don't get to enjoy any luxuries, only suffer from too much hard work and malnutrition.

"...I said 'Well, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls!" Effie says, beaming at us.

I can't help myself. I laugh at her informality. All three of them, Effie, Katniss, and Haymitch look at me incredulously at my rude behavior.

"What?" I ask, laughing nervously. "You know that's not true. Coal doesn't turn into anything."

Effie's eyes turn into slits as she glowers at me. Katniss is trying to keep her serious face in tact but there's a hint of a smirk playing at the edges of her lips. Haymitch is covering his mouth, looking at me with some kind of pride. Effie huffs at me and stomps away, disappearing down the hallway and into one of the rooms.

Katniss yanks her hand from mine and playfully shoves me. She doesn't do any actual harm though.

"Play nice," she scolds through a fit of laughter.

"I'm trying," I say in defense, grinning at her. "but I can only take so much, and c'mon, Catnip, you know we can't let her keep thinking that pearls are made from _coal_," I retort, spewing out my final word.

"Go easy on Effie. She gets flustered really easily." Haymitch advises in a cool tone, raising his eyebrows at me in warning. "I suggest you go get washed up. Dinner will be ready soon." He leaves to his own dormitory.

Katniss gives me a look of apprehension, waiting for me to follow after him.

"I guess I'll see you later then." I say, gesturing at my outfit. "I really want to change out of this."

"Same here."

We both walk down the hallway and go into our respective rooms. As soon as I shut my door closed, I try to ignore all of the extravagance- the chandeliers, the plush carpets- and sit myself down on the large bed. I bring my feet up into my lap so I can un-tie my boots. I was quick to unfasten the laces. I kick off my boots and hurriedly started peeling off the skin tight unitard off of me. Once I got the one-piece off, I stretch my arms a bit before speeding off for another shower.

It's a hassle to configure all of the switches and buttons back to the correct alignments until the water and soap is to my liking. I scrub my face, rubbing at my eyes to remove all traces of anything that is the Capitol's way of enhancing me.

My shower doesn't take very long, but it does the job to cleanse and relax me. I throw on a gray v-neck T-shirt and some black pants before heading back to the warm, comfy bed that's calling my name. I take a seat on the bed and grab the remote on the night stand, curiously examining it before pushing one of the clear buttons.

The wall on the eastern side of the room is actually entirely made of glass. I never noticed before because the curtains hadn't been drawn until now. A second after pressing the button, the large window becomes a large screen that morphed from it's reflection of the outside night scenery into a digitalized moving image of the Town Square. It shows people walking around, chatting amongst each other as they go along on their merry way.

I scowl at their carefree nature, and press the button again. This time, it's a desert that appears on the screen. I press the button again and I'm greeted with a visual representation of the woods. Birds are chirping, the trees are rustling, and I feel eerily safe. I sit up straighter, wishing more than anything that it was real so I could escape into it. The projection looks so lifelike that I start to think that if I wish hard enough, I'll suddenly wake up in the middle of these trees with Katniss at my side. I shut my eyes.

_Somewhere far away. Somewhere where no one can touch us. Just the two of us together. Somewhere only we know._

I slowly open my eyes and disappointment floods through me. How can I make the best of what I have when I'm trapped beneath the world of which I hate?

...


	8. Who Has It Worse: Her or Us?

**Author's Note: As a fellow FF reader myself, I'd rather have a short update to read than nothing at all. Hope everyone is doing well. Happy Thursday!**

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><p>Cinna and Portia join us for dinner, adding a lighter atmosphere to the room. Haymitch and Effie are making small talk with them, complimenting on their creativity with our costumes and how Katniss and I were the hit of the night.<p>

I stray away from the red liquid in my stemmed glass that everyone else is drinking. I settle for water to wash down my meal instead. Tonight we have mushroom soup, roast beef, and steamed vegetables. As we eat, the conversation wavers over to ideas for our interview apparel.

A girl places a large frothy, overly frosted cake on the table and lights it up so it blazes all around, creating a sugary glaze on top of it for a final sugary top layer.

"What makes it burn? Is it alcohol?" Katniss asks, looking at the waitress. "That's the last thing I wa- Oh! I know you!"

I do a double take as I examine the girl's face more closely after hearing Katniss's outburst of recognition. The girl has dark red hair, a pointed face, and pale skin. I reel back through my memory bank to recall if I know her from school. No, I've seen her somewhere else... Where does Katniss know her from? I would know if I'd seen her around the District. Unless... That's it! She's not from our District! We found her in the woods, running for her life with a boy at her side. They were fugitives. We didn't try to help them because we couldn't risk exposure so we watched as the hovercraft took them away.

A shallow breath escapes me at my realization. All of the adults are looking at Katniss as if she's just convicted a murder or- probably worse in their eyes- stained the carpet with the wine everyone's having.

"Don't be ridiculous, Katniss. How could you possibly know an Avox?" Effie says in utter disgust. "The very thought."

"What's an Avox?" Katniss questions.

"Someone who committed a crime. They cut her tongue so she can't speak." Haymitch explains. "She's probably a traitor of some sort. Not likely you'd know her."

There is a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach as guilt sets in. I've played a role in this girl's cruel fate. All this time I've been mourning over my own outcome, and here's this girl who's been sentenced to a life as a servant. I don't know who has it worse: her or us? At least Katniss and I have the option of death. We've been given that mercy. This nameless girl has nothing left for her. I'm sure she must hate us for not saving her.

"And even if you did, you're not to speak to one of them unless it's to give an order," Effie snaps. "Of course, you don't really know her."

"No, I guess not, I just-" Katniss stammers out, shaking her head.

I place a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from revealing anything more that could potentially get us in trouble. Katniss turns her head to look at me, her glassy gray eyes are filled with questions that I'm forbidden to answer in front of our small audience.

"She looks like Delly Cartwright from school," I tell her, hoping I sound convincing enough. "That's why she looks familiar to you."

Of course, the girl looks nothing like Delly, but the overly friendly, pasty skinned blonde from back home is the first name that comes to mind, so I go with that. Katniss seems to grasp the urgency that's seeping out of my crazed eyes. She does her part, dropping her jaw and nodding slowly at her sudden fake revelation.

"Oh, yes, that must be it." she says in a lively voice that sounds like she's holding back a laugh. "The similarity stunned me for a moment there."

I remove my hand and go back to my food, hoping that everyone can go back to acting like nothing happened.

"Oh, well, if that's all it is," Cinna says, waving off the tension in the air. "And yes, the cake has spirits, but all the alcohol has burned off. I ordered it specifically in honor of your fiery debut."

I have a feeling that no one will ever let us live down our blazing performance.


	9. The Thought of Rebellion

**Author's Note: Hello, everyone! How are we all doing this evening? I'm stressing out so much now that spring break is over and my school work is piling up again. I'm really happy that I have my stories though and my fellow fans who support them. Thank you all so much :)**

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><p>All of us have pieces of cake and depart to the sitting room to catch a repeat broadcast of the opening ceremonies. I sit in between Haymitch and Katniss. It's a surreal feeling to watch yourself living out something, as opposed to actually experiencing it on a first hand account. I can pinpoint back to the nerve wracking anxiety of being put out for display, but once I watch the play back, I see nothing but confidence displayed on my face. Katniss and I present ourselves as a strong front. We're united and poised to go up against anything that the Capitol happens to throw our way.<p>

"Whose idea was the hand holding?" Haymitch asks.

"Cinna's," Portia reports.

"Just the perfect touch of rebellion."

Rebellion? The thought stirs something inside of me, and I'm intrigued at the idea of defying the Capitol.

"Tomorrow morning is the first training session. Meet me for breakfast and I'll tell you exactly how to play it," Haymitch announces to both Katniss and myself without looking at us. "Now go get some sleep while the grown ups talk."

I scoff, feeling insulted. Apparently being eighteen and a part of this ridiculous tirade means nothing.

Katniss begins to stand up, but I don't budge. Instead, I glower at Haymitch and say, "If you're going to talk about us, I think we have a right to stay and listen."

Haymitch grunts. "Remind me, who's the mentor here?"

I grit my teeth. "You are."

"Right. I'm going to discuss what attributes we can play out for your interview. When we decide on something, I'll inform you when the time is right. Now, don't make me tell you again. Go to sleep. I don't want to have to drag you out of bed tomorrrow."

"Fine," I growl before getting up.

Katniss and I walk down the corridor to our rooms.

"You remembered the girl, too," Katniss remarks once we're alone in the hallway.

"Yeah," I confirm. "I remember."

"We should have saved her."

"I know, but we couldn't have. We would've exposed ourselves. We would've ended up the same way."

Katniss doesn't contradict me because she knows I'm right. We couldn't have afforded to take strangers into our homes. And if anyone found out, the Capitol would make sure our punishment was some excruciating death. I suppose this was like some deranged form of karma since we were enforced to undergo the Games. It all seemed a bit suspicious, but I'm sure I'm being paranoid. Nothing more than a coincidence...

"I was thinking about how that could've been us if... If we had left."

I hadn't considered that. What would it have been like if the roles had been reversed and we were the ones begging for help?

"We can't think about the past. We can't change anything besides the future now." I say in a cold voice, balling my hands into fists and stuffing them inside of my pockets.

I don't know what's angered me so suddenly. The fact that we can't fix our selfish mistake or that I have no idea how to cope with the unknown?

"How do you plan on changing the future then?" Katniss ventures, staring at me with uncertainty.

"I'm not sure yet,"

"Let me know when you figure something out."

I crack a grin. "I will," I swoop my head down a bit for a mock bow. "Goodnight, Katniss."

"Goodnight, Gale."

I won't admit this, but I fear of what will happen in the training session. The Games may not have officially begun, but training is where we make impressions with the other tributes. How can I upstage them?

...


	10. Setting the Plan In Motion

**Author's Note: Hey, there! How's everyone doing? Long chapter this time. Hope you all like it. I apologize for any errors you might happen to find. I'm very tired at the moment and I have no **

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><p>I woke up while it's still dark outside. I'm haunted by more nightmares. This time, I was running through the forest, searchin for my runaway family, but I couldn't find any of them no matter how I long I ran for, or how much I screamed out their names.<p>

I stare at the ceiling for awhile until I get fed up with wasting time doing nothing. Who knows how many days I have left.

I get up and take another shower. When I came out, an outfit has manifested itself at the front of the closet. Black pants, a dark gray shirt made out of some spandex material that zips up at the upper chest area. On the sides of each sleeve, there's a number 12 stitched inside a black square of fabric to mark us to our homes.

I don't understand how the Capitol prides itself on bringing the nation together, but they still keep us divided. I don't believe any one district is better than the other. But then there are days when when I absolutely no idea what to believe in anymore.

I get dressed and take my time lacing up my regular pair of leather boots. I start pacing around the room because I can't stand sitting around and waiting for further instructions. I've probably made around twenty-five laps when I finally hear a knock at the door.

"Morning, Sunshine!" Haymitch drawls out.

I yank the door open.

"Oh," he says in surprise, lowering his raised hand that was prepared to knock on the door again. "Good. Wasted no time getting ready, eh?" he jerks his head to the side. "C'mon, let's go."

We walk back down to the dining room and seat ourselves at the table. Upon seeing our entrance, the Avoxes begin scurrying around and start serving us enough food and drinks to fill to our hearts content before we even make it to our chairs.

I decide to go for the hot cakes first. Haymitch tells me that they go best with syrup, so I take his word and pour the thick sugary brown liquid onto my plate. I start digging in, and the rich, fluffiness explodes in my mouth. I've never had breakfast this good before. What a way to start my morning.

Katniss shows up as I devour upon my second hot cake, and I'm in the process of asking an Avox to prepare another one for me.

"Save some for me," Katniss teases as she slides into her usual seat beside me.

"There's plenty to go around," I say cheerily. "Catnip, you have to try this syrup. It's like honey, but more rich."

She gives a short laugh at my enthusiasm.

I receive my third hot cake and immediately scarf it down along with my remaining platter of hashbrowns and scrambled eggs. Everything tastes light and flavorful, leaving my taste buds tingling and my stomach feeling full.

After Haymitch finishes his final round of stew, he pushes the bowl away and takes out a flask from his jacket pocket. He takes a hearty drink from it before saying, "So, let's get down to business. Training. First off, if you like, I'll coach you separately. Decide now."

"Why would you coach us separately?" Katniss asks.

"Say if you had a secret skill you ,ight not want the other to know about,"

Did I want Katniss to watch me fight? It could potentially help her win, if she studies my technique, she could work against me... She'd find some way to hold me at mercy while figuring out some way to end her life rather than shedding my blood for her own gain.

Then again, there's no point in training alone because it will offer no advantages. Katniss knows me better than I know myself. She knows my strategies and my weaknesses. There's nothing to hide between us. We may as well work together. That had been the plan all along after all. No point in changing it now.

Katniss and I exchange looks, working a silent agreement.

"You can coach us together," she tells Haymitch.

I nod in confirmation.

"All right, so give me some idea of what you can do," Haymitch requests.

"We can hunt," Katniss informs.

"Elaborate."

"With bows and arrows, but Gale is a genius with traps and snares."

I feel my face heating up. It isn't very often that I hear Katniss complimenting me, so I feel very flattered right now.

Haymitch rubs his chin. "There's no guarantee there'll be bows and arrows in the arena, but during your provate session with the Gamemakers, show them what you can do. Until then, stay clear of archery. Now, how confident are you two about winning?" His eyes dart back and forth between Katniss and myself. "That's the main question because you don't want to go into this looking vulnerable by appearing as an easy target."

I clamp my teeth together as I consider his question from every possible angle. Haymitch should stick to rooting for Katniss because she's more agile, more experienced when it comes to hunting. She has a far more greater chance of surviving compared to me.

Hold on. I want Katniss to win, yes. More than any other tribute. I had spent most of my time during this past year caring deeply for Katniss Everdeen, of course I wanted to make it my sole duty to protect her. There is no other choice. I have to keep myself alive until I was sure that she would become the victor.

"I want Katniss to win," I mumble out, refraining from looking at anyone.

Katniss does this little exale of surprise before spewing out, "Well, I want Gale to win."

_What_?

"Why?" I snap at Katniss, my voice coming out more harsh than I intended. "You have a better chance at winning."

"No more than you," she states.

Haymitch frowns, but his voice remains indifferent as he asks, "Would you two be willing to fight for each other then?"

"I would-" I instantly shut my mouth before I can blurt out the rest. I was going to say that I would literally kill someone in order to keep Katniss safe from harm.

I tense up, expecting a cold rebuke from Katniss, but instead, I'm granted with her cool response of: "Same here."

"Interesting," Haymitch muses. "Maybe we can work this to our advantage. As long as you two fight alongside each other, keeping the other safe, you'll be a strong team to take down." His tone darkens and he stares at us each directly in the eye. "Remember that the forces to be reckoned with are the smaller alliances. Together, you two can make it to the end. The bigger groups, the Careers, they tend to turn against each other, and they can't be trusted."

Katniss and I nod our heads in understanding.

"Okay, now that that's settled, the plan's the same for both of you. You go to group training. Spend the time trying to learn something you don't know. Throw a spear. Swing a mace. Learn to tie a decent knot." Haymitch folds his hands together, keeping his voice firm. It's somewhat odd to see him so refined and serious, but I'm not going to judge because at least he's doing his job. "Because it's knowing the simple things that end up coming in handy when you're isolated in the wilderness."

I smirk at Katniss and she smiles back. We know how to survive in the forest better than anyone.

"Save showing what you're best at until the private sessions. Are we clear?" Haymitch asks sternly.

We nod again.

"One last thing," he says, raising his hand. "In public, I want you by each other's side every minute."

This doesn't seem like a diffcult task to ask of us. Katniss and I never stray too far from each other when we're hanging out back home in District 12.

I shrug. "That's fine."

Katniss doesn't comment. She starts picking at the remaining food on her plate. I wonder how she feels about the constant closeness we've been issued.

"Good. Stay compliant, and don't get into any trouble. Keep tabs on the others so you know what to look out for. Now, go and run along now. Meet Effie at the elevator at ten for training."

I move my seat back and leave the table. As I walk back to my room, Katniss catches up to me.

"Gale?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you really okay with being presented as partners?"

"Yeah," I say with bravado. "It's just like back at home, right?"

Katniss looks troubled for a moment. "Right..."

"Is something wrong?"

"I think it'll mean something different, that's all."

"And do you have a problem? Of what people will think of us?" I ask.

Katniss's cheeks redden and she shakes her head rapidly. "N-no, I was just wondering if you did."

I cast her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine with it, really."

She looks relieved. "Okay, good. See you in a bit."

"See you,"

I'm left thinking that even if getting myself landed into the Games is the worst thing that could've happen to me, at least I'll be rewarded by being able to stay with Katniss right to the very end.

...


	11. I Think We've Found Our Real Competition

**Author's Note: I know, I know, it's been two weeks since I last updated. What can I say? I was down to my last weeks of school and there was just too much on my plate. Too many assignments and projects. Ugh. Anyway, no, I haven't abandoned the story. In fact, I already have the next couple chapters written up, I simply have to type them now. Other than that, here's your long awaited chapter eleven!**

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><p>Effie is unusually quiet, only mumbling a stiff, "Good morning," as she escorts us into the elevator.<p>

It doesn't take less than fie minutes to get down to the Training Center, which happens to be on the last level in the building. The doors open into a large spacious room that has been designed as a giant gymnasium with exercise contraptions, obstacle courses, and weaponry stations.

We're the last to arrive. All the other tributes are already here, gathered together in the middle of the room. Everyone has on identical outfits, only the numbers on our sleeves are different, displaying the respective one for their individual district.

Effie bids us good luck and shoos us in. Katniss and I hurry over to the circle of tributes who turn around and shoot death glares in our direction. The head trainer, who introduces herself as Atala, notices our arrival and resumes speaking, talking about how the training schedule will happen.

I stand close to Katniss and send a threatening glower over at that arrogant blonde boy from District Two who is eyeing her in an offensive manner, close to the way the girls at school look at me. He smirks at me, provoking me, but I shake my head and roll my eyes instead of giving him a reason to start a fight. I know better than to let my guard down at the wrong moment. He has no idea who he's messing with.

Atala instructs us to travel area to area per our mentor's orders. Every station is designed to teach survival or fighting skills.

"...And no fighting with the other tributes," she says. "You'll have plenty of time for that in the arena."

_Yeah, and I know I'm going after first, _I say scathingly.

I start assessing the others while Atala goes on about which skills are being provided in what part of the room. The boys all seem to be in shape. Especially that creep from District Two and the boy from District Eleven, he's brawny. The Career females look pretty fiesty, but I don't think I'd have that much trouble fighting them off it came to that. I know I can't underestimate anyone though. These weapons, these guidelines on how to escape death, that's not what I'm focusing on. The bottom line is- weapons don't kill people, people kill people.

Atala dismisses us and everyone scatters around the area, bounding over to the most interesting looking stations. I wonder where we should begin.

"Where do you want to start?" I ask Katniss who is meticulously eyeing everyone; the Careers handling spears and long, twisted blades, and the other tributes nervously prodding over axes and knives.

"Suppose we tie some knots," she quips.

At first, I think she's joking, but then I remember what Haymitch said, and I guess it's not a bad idea to improve my trapping style.

"Lead the way," I say, gesturing with my hand for her to go before me.

We walk across the stadium-like room over to the empty booth with a trainer who seems very glad to have pupils to teach. He beams at us and gets right to the basics. After seeing my abilities, he catches on to my knowledge of snares and starts showing us something more difficult. It's a trap that will catch a human and leave them dangling from a tree by the ankle. I've done simpler versions at home, the kind that are good enough to capture small animals by the neck, but nothing this strong. _My_ prototype can hold as much as a five pound rabbit, butt this wicked rope contraption can withstand holding up to at least two hundred pounds.

Katniss and I work on the trap until we've both mastered it. I know it so well that I could probably make one with my eyes closed. I can't wait to try it out.

Next, we move on to camouflage. I end up being so bad at it that I get fed up and playfully wipe a slap of paint on Katniss's cheek. She gasps and tries to get me back, but right as she lunges the trainer tells us to stop and behave. I laugh as Katniss rubs at the paint, only causing it to smear all over the right side of her face. She glares at me and sticks out her tongue which causes me to have another fit of laughter.

During the course of the next three days, we circuit around the training center, learning how to start a fire, properly throw a knife, and make shelter. When it comes to hand-to-hand combat, I don't do too bad. I end up tossing one of the training assistants over my back, and got another one wrapped in a headlock. Katniss doesn't attack her opponent, instead she swerves and ducks from every arm swipe, dodging a kick to the chest by dropping to the ground just in the nick of time. I wince every time she barely manages to miss each hit. I don't fear for my own safety, only hers. How can I protect her when we're apart in the arena? I hope she can remain unscathed until we cross paths, and that's if I can survive that long.

"Gale?"

"Huh?" I ask, coming back from my worried daze.

Katniss is in front of me, breathing heavily but smiling. "C'mon," she says, tugging on my arm. "Our time's up."

"Oh." I look back to see the line of tributes behind me. They all look afraid. At least, the younger kids do. The ones that are our age look rather bored out of their minds.

Katniss and I go over to the edible plants test which ends up being this gigantic screen that is connected to some electronic keyboard. Katniss and I have trouble working with the buttons and keys so the trainer demonstrates that they objective is to match the plant's silhouette with its pair. The idea of it is that it's supposed to help you remember what the edible and poisonous plants looked like. Katniss ends up passing with ease because she grew up familiarizing herself with plants that were safe to eat.

Avoxes bring in lunch on these large silver carts and everyone is allowed to serve themselves like a buffet. The Careers gather together at one table, laughing and being obnoxious while the rest of us keep to ourselves and sit apart from each other. Katniss and I sit together in the corner of the back table. We stay quiet while we eat, and I bask in the silence because it's time like this, when we're not speaking, that I feel more connected with Katniss than with anyone else.

"See anyone worthy of trusting?" I ask once I catch the Gamemakers watching us.

"Besides you?" Katniss says with a soft laugh. "Not really. Maybe Foxface. She looks smart."

"Foxface?" I repeat.

"Oh, that's what I call the girl from Five. You know, because her face and hair."

I look over and quickly spot her because of the color of her flaming red hair. She's sneaking glances at everyone, her eyes are calculative and sharp. Her eyes catch mine and she automatically turns away. I remember seeing her on the obstacle course. She's pretty quick.

"What about you?" Katniss wonders. "Anyone catch your eye?"

I decide to relay her snide remark back at her by saying, "Besides you?" Katniss smiles but looks away, avoiding my gaze. I let out a low chuckle. "I'm still deciding."

I start to consider the little girl from 11 after I catch her stealthily following us around the rest of the stations. She appears to be at least twelve years old. She's so small that her head can barely pass my waist. Her lithe body propels up on the large net that hangs up on the wall and wraps around the ceiling. No one other than myself notices that she's the one who snatched Cato's knife away from right under his nose after I look up to see her hiding in the cover of the black netting. I nudge Katniss and gesture to look up. She sees the girl and grins. I think we've found our real competition.

...


	12. Make Sure They Remember You

**Author's Note: From this moment forward, I am changing the update schedule to every Friday evening (PST). I would have done it this week, but I am going to a concert tomorrow and I won't be back home until late. I wasn't sure how to go about this scene, but I did what I could and wrote out what I imagined in my head. Sorry if it's not to your expectations. I hope you can spot the parallels I made with Katniss's private session ;) It's a short piece, but it should have the excitement you've been waiting for. Happy reading!**

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><p>On the third day of training, the Gamemakers start calling us in for our private sessions. It goes in descending order by district number. First boys, then girls.<p>

"Nervous?" Katniss asks after the District 11 girl, Rue, scurries into the Training Center once her name is called.

"Not really," I say indifferently.

"Are you going to tell me your big plan?"

"It's not really a plan," I say quietly. "Haymitch said to make a trap. I'll have to improvise when I get in there."

"Right."

"What about you?"

Katniss looks thoughtful, the crease between her eyebrows is showing as she narrows her eyes at the ground. "I'm going to shoot all the practice dummies, and then, I'm not sure."

Haymitch's last words of advice from this morning are racing through my mind, and I'm sure Katniss is hearing them too.

_"They're going to bring you in one by one and evaluate you. This is important because higher ratings will mean sponsors. This is the time to show them everything. They'll start with District One, so the two of you will go last. Well, I don't know how else to say this, but make sure they remember you."_

After we ponder in silence for a few minutes, an automated voice calls out my name. I stand up and take a deep breath.

"Good luck," Katniss says.

"Thanks." I say with a smile. "You, too."

I walk through the raised glass door and step forward into the middle of the room. The Gamemakers are chatting amongst each other as they reside on the high balcony, overseeing the entire center floor. Two of them notice my presence. They whisper to each other. One of them nods at me and yells out, "You may begin."

I head over to the knot tying station and create the complicated dangling trap. I set the rope on a tall pole the way I was taught since there are no trees in here to use. I tug on the rope to make sure it's secure. I grab one one of the body sized dummies that are used for knife throwing and tie a large heavy weight to it. I heave the entire thing on my back, and use all of my force to throw it onto the specified spot. It lands with a loud -_slam_- and I have everyone's attention now as the dummy gets propelled into the air. There's a hum of appreciation among the spectators, but I'm not done.

Next, I head over to the archery station and pick out a bow and arrow. Hopefully one arrow will be all I need. I step up on the obstacle course and leap from table to table with more grace than I've ever had, until I jump off the final ledge. I stumble to the floor and play it out by lurching forward and doing a sudden somersault. I stand up in one solid movement and do a full out sprint, and when I'm about ten feet away from my trap, I swerve to a stop, lean forward, aim, and fire. My arrow streaks through the air and connects through the head of the dummy. A perfect shot. An instant kill.

I grin at my performance. All that practicing back home with Katniss has finally paid off. I've displayed all my best hunting skills. My family would be proud.

There's scattered applause. I look up and see the head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, leering at me with a scrutinizing expression, as if he's astounded by my abilities. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

"You're free to go," one of the Gamemakers say.

I throw the bow on the ground and give it a swift kick for good measure, showing my hatred for anything Capitol made.

"I look forward to seeing what you have in store for me." I say, provoking them as I send a mock salute their way before turning on my heel and storming out the door.

...


	13. That's Comforting

**Author's Note: A thousand apologies. My internet wasn't complying with me last night so I couldn't update, but I am doing so now. Short chapter. Next chapter should have more, shall we say drama? I'm still working on it. This is what I get for working on five different stories all at once.**

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><p>"How did it go?" Haymitch asks when I get back to the suite.<p>

"Fine,"

"Just 'fine'?" he says gruffly. "Tell me what you did."

I take a seat across from him and relay my session. Haymitch says he's impressed and he likes the way I affronted them with my snide parting comment.

"You did good," he says in praise. "You can't let them to think that they own you."

"So, how did you win?"

Haymitch sighs heavily and puts his feet up on the coffee table as he sprawls out on the couch, sinking further into the cushions. "I used the field to my advantage."

I'm confused. "Wh- how?"

"I out smarted the Gamemakers by using the area against them."

Haymitch is being vague. He doesn't want to reveal his secrets.

I stare at him, waiting for a better answer, but I never get one because the elevator door opens and Katniss comes out. Before we can even greet her, she's already racing down the hallway. Her bedroom door slams closed with a thunderous sound that reverberates through the whole place.

"Well, that's not good." Haymitch says, pouring himself another round of alcohol in his crystal glass.

I press my lips together as hundreds of possibilities race through my mind as to what could have caused Katniss to react so badly. She's not usually the type to get so worked up unless something really offended her.

I stand up and prepare to find out what's wrong when Haymitch stops me by saying, "Whoa, I suggest leaving her for a bit to settle down. You know how women can get overly emotional."

I shake my head. If our roles were reversed, Katniss wouldn't hesitate to console me. I have to go to her.

Haymitch scoffs and mumbles something that sounds like "stubborn fool" as I stalk down the hallway in hopes of aiding my best friend.

I knock on her door. "Catnip, it's me."

"Go away!" Katniss wails from the other side.

I wince as her order strikes me like a slap to the face. She's never spoken so harshly to me before.

"Katniss," I plead. "Katniss, what happened?"

"Just leave me alone, _please_."

"Alright, fine," I say in defeat. "But I'm just going to wait outside the door until you're ready to talk."

I sit down next to her door and lean against the wall. I put a hand to my face, rubbing my forehead. It's causing me pain that Katniss is feeling distraught and she's literally shutting me out. All I want to do is wrap my her up in my arms and assure her that everything is going to be okay. I shut my eyes closed and concentrate on nothing; numbing myself into a state of drowziness. I don't know how much time has passed when I hear footsteps approaching the door and Katniss's voice calling out my name.

I snap my eyes open and automatically answer by saying, "Yeah?"

Katniss opens the door. Her eyes are wet and blotchy, the top of her slender nose is red, and her cheeks are pale and sallow. There's a sharp ache in my chest as I take in her appearance. I've never seen her looking so helpless. I fear how I should go about comforting her.

First, I pick myself up off the floor and open up my arms to her. She looks hesitant for a long moment, but then she closes the space between us and collapses into me, sobbing hysterically into my chest. I hold her tightly, stroking her hair with one hand, and rubbing circles on her back with my other hand to soothe her.

"Shh..." I calmly whisper, mimicking the way my mom settles Posy down when she's having one of her fits. "Shh, it's okay."

"Oh, Gale," Katniss says, her voice muffled through her crying. "It was horrible."

"I'm sure it was fine," I reply. "You're probably-" I stop myself from saying "overreacting" because then I would come off sounding like an insensitive jerk. "Er, you were probably just nervous, that's all. C'mon, it couldn't have been that bad."

"I shot an arrow at them."

I freeze for a second as I process that.

"You-" I choke out. "_What_?"

Katniss pulls herself away from me, hands balled in fists, glint of pain and anger shining through he sterling gray eyes. "Ugh, they were so inconsiderate!" she seethes. "They weren't paying any attention to me. All they cared about was that stupid dead pig that they were going to eat." Katniss growls, kneading the toe of her boot into the floor in frustration.

"That's..." I struggle for the right words. I think "despicable" or "horrible", but I end up saying, "Not right. You did what you had to,"

"What if they punish me by torturing Prim or my mom?" Katniss spews through blinding tears. Her voice is breaking as she whispers out, "Or you?"

"They won't," I say, holding her steady by placing my hands on either of her shoulders. "They can't or else it would cause too much publicity. Plus, it's a waste of time for them to get officials to go all the way to District 12."

Katniss sniffs loudly. "I suppose you're right."

"Trust me," I say, staring straight into her eyes. "The worse they can do now is make our lives a living hell in the arena."

Katniss laughs dryly. "That's comforting."

...


	14. Set the Record Straight

**Author's Note: I went to see The Hunger Games for the third time. It was amazing. It inspired me even more for this fanfic so I have more of an idea on where I'm going with this. Today, I said there will be drama, but it's not necessarily drama, but more like... Well, you'll see.**

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><p>Katniss suddenly backs away from me, and my hands fall back down at my sides.<p>

"What's wrong?"

She wipes her face with her arm. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you see me like this."

I raise an eyebrow, cocking my head to the side. "What? See you crying? It's human nature, Catnip. There's nothing wrong with it."

Katniss shakes her head. "I don't want you to see me as a weak, pathetic little girl."

I sigh heavily. How can she not see how powerful she is?

"I don't see you that way because you're not. You're a strong, brave young woman who I can always depend on," I reply with bravado. "You help me, I help you- that's how it works."

"Yes, that's right." Katniss says after a moment. "Thank you,"

"You're welcome," I say, tilting her chin up with my finger in a gesture to keep her head up.

Katniss laughs for a second before backing away again and saying, "Well, could you leave me for a few minutes? I look terrible."

"I've been looking at you for ten minutes now and you look completely fine."

Katniss scoffs. "I'll bet. I'm sure I look as attractive as Greasy Sae right about now."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," I contradict with a teasing smile. "I've never wanted to kiss Greasy Sae before, so..."

Katniss's eyes widen and her chest heaves like she lost her breath for a second. "But- but you would kiss me?" she asks in disbelief. Or was that repulsion I detected in her voice?

"Uh, n- no." I shake my head, hoping my face isn't turning red. "I mean, maybe, if- if we weren't friends, that is."

Katniss stands her ground and folds her arms over her chest. I must have said said something wrong because now she's pouting and narrowing her eyes at me.

_Nice going, idiot. Here was your shot to tell her how you feel and you screwed it up!_

Why is it that the only girl that I can't act confident around is Katniss? All the other girls at school, I never had problems talking to them and telling them to leave me alone. Maybe it's because Katniss is the only girl I actually want to be with.

She seems to be waiting for me to say something else but I'm not exactly sure what else to do besides stand here like an idiot, so I decide to save myself the trouble of making things anymore worse by turning on my heel and muttering, "I'll just go then..."

"Wait,"

I stop mid-step and turn back around to see Katniss going back to her normal state: slightly slouched shoulders, taunt lower lip, fierce and compassionate eyes, and the slanted stance she's adopted after being taught to be ready to flee at any given second.

"Tell me about your session," she says, tilting her head to look straight at me.

"Uh," I scratch the back of my head, wondering what caused Katniss to suddenly change her mood and start acting all friendly again, while at the same time, I try to recollect the previous event. "I made the trap we learned how to make during training. I had a dummy placed in the net, and then I went off to get a bow and arrow." I chuckle at the memory. "I tried to show off by jumping off those ledges in the obstacle course-" I start laughing. "And I nearly had a brutal fall. You should've seen me."

Katniss laughs. She always gets a kick at seeing me mess up or hearing about tales where I've made a fool out of myself.

"I wish I had," Katniss says smugly.

My face heats up so I try to laugh, but it sounds very unconvincing. "Yeah..."

"Was that all?"

"Oh, well, I shot the dummy and told the Gamemakers that I'm looking forward to whatever they have in store for me. Then I left."

Katniss chuckles under her breath.

I angle my face so that my head lowers in a slightly menacing way. "What's so funny?"

Katniss smiles. "It seems that we both flared our temper at them. I told them, 'Thank you for your consideration' and left."

I smirk at her, silently admiring the fiery side of her that can't be contained.

"At least we gave them something to look forward to," I say half joking, half serious.

"Or something to be afraid of," Katniss counters, the wicked glint of determination shines in her eyes, leaving me immobilized in awe.

"Yes," I agree. "That, too."

There's a knock on the door, and Katniss and I both turn to see our new addition. It's Effie, wearing a new dress- some poofy lime green dress that looks like something a half ballerina, half mermaid would wear with the way it curves into some scaled bodice that is enhanced by some large skirt that flares out around her waist.

"Oh, hello," Effie says, seeming embarrassed to have interrupted us, but I can't tell if she's actually blushing or not due to all that make up that she has caked on her face. Surely she wasn't expecting me to be in Katniss's room. I'm not even sure if tributes are allowed in each other's bedrooms. It shouldn't matter though. It's not like we're fighting against each other or doing anything inappropriate.

"Dinner is about to be served," Effie announces with a flourish.

"Okay, thank you, Effie." I answer politely with a slight nod.

"We'll be there in a minute," Katniss says.

As Effie leaves, Katniss walks over to her bathroom. I hear water running and then splashing. Katniss returns about a minute later with her face perfectly cleansed.

"Alright, let's go," she says.

I don't make a move to leave though. I stand my ground. I really need to get my feelings off my chest and now seems like a good time to do just that.

"Hold on,"

Katniss steps back, casting me a look of concern. I stare her straight in the eyes as I say, "I want to set the record straight," I take a deep breath, summoning up some courage to say what I'm about to say. I don't even know what I'm saying, really. I just need to get this out in the open before I start sending her mixed signals again. "I would only kiss you if you asked me to,"

Katniss looks taken aback. Her lower lip juts out and her eyes are scanning my face for a secret meaning behind my words. She knows that my behavior is out of character. I would never say anything so undaunted and personal, but the times have changed and I need to start putting my feelings out on the line before I'm on my death bed and it's too late to act upon anything.

Katniss stares at me wonderously. "I don't want to have to ask," she says timidly, slowly inching her way closer to me. "Then it would be like you have to, not that you want to."

_Oh, believe me, I want to, _I think to myself, but too afraid of saying that out loud. At least, I can't say that yet without knowing something first.

"Okay," I say, squaring my shoulders and swallowing hard. "So, let's say, hypothetically-" Katniss smiles at my awkward, waning response. "If I were to kiss you... would- would you get upset?"

She looks at me as if I'm crazy. Her voice is breathy and strangely heated when she asks, "Why would I get upset?"

I take a step back only to get backed up into the wall. "Well, we've never discussed it before, but maybe, you're interested in someone else?" My voice sounds inquisitive, bitter, and fearful all at the same time. It's really stupid of me to act this way. I shouldn't care who Katniss has romantic feelings for, but I do.

Katniss scoffs. "Really, Gale, who could I possibly have a crush on?"

"I don't know," I answer pathetically. "That's the problem- _I don't know_."

Katniss grins at me, her face brightening in a way that I haven't seen in awhile. It's comforting and exquisite to behold. She's casting a spell on me and she has no idea that she's doing it.

"I'll make it very easy for you to understand," she says in a chipper tone. She seems so much more confident all of a sudden. "I only care about my family and you."

I smile like an idiot as I take in her words. Katniss likes me in the same way that I like her. Who would've imagined? Okay, maybe Prim because she hinted it to me before but I refused to think anything of it at the time.

"I feel the same," I say in a mixture of wonder and pride. I feel as if the weight of the world has been lifted off of my shoulders. I've always carried this dragging feeling around inside of me because Katniss and I always told each other everything, but the one thing I refused to share was my feelings for her. Until now.

...


	15. We Made It Through One Challenge

**Author's Note: Hello, hello! I have a short chapter for you tonight, but it's better than nothing, right? Heh.**

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><p>"Good," Katniss says as if we've just struck a deal. "So, I guess we should go have dinner now."<p>

"Yeah, okay. Just try not to shoot anything at the dinner table," I hinder with a short snigger that earns me a playful punch to the shoulder.

"Shut up," she says, fighting back from laughing herself.

I hold out my hand to her and she stares at it as if she's waiting for me to propose some kind of truce or something.

"What?" she asks after I don't say anything.

"I want to hold your hand," I explain bashfully.

"Oh," Katniss laughs for a second before slipping her hand into mine. Our fingers lace together and then we walk hand-in-hand to the dining room. Haymitch and Effie are sitting as far away from each other as possible, both inhabiting the chairs at each head of the table, nibbling on their food in complete silence. Once we walk into the room, the both of them practically jump out of their chairs, eager for us to join them and diffuse the tension.

"Come, come! Sit down!" Effie says merrily, waving us forward.

Haymitch smiles timidly, looking afraid of showing any appeasement towards us. Once I let Katniss take her seat, I sit down in the chair beside her and pick up my fork and knife. I'm starving. Tributes hadn't received any free time since this morning before our last bit of training due to the sessions.

"So," Haymitch says to Katniss while I start tearing at my food with my utensils. "How did it go, Sweetheart?"

Katniss swallows hard. "Well, I- I shot my targets." Haymitch nods and she continues by saying, "But the Gamemakers didn't pay any attention to me so I shot an arrow at them."

Effie suddenly does this horrible shriek that could put every bird in existence to shame. "Are you _crazy_?" she wails out.

"But I didn't hit anybody," Katniss says defiantly. "I just... I lost my head, so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig's mouth!"

Effie shakes her head madly, throwing her fork down on her plate in disgust. Haymitch's face is clear of emotion. He seems to be thinking hard about something.

"And," he speaks up. "How did they react?"  
>Katniss shrugs. "They seemed pretty scared, I guess."<p>

Haymitch guffaws. "I bet they were!" Haymitch's eyes light up in a way that I've never seen before. He looks excited and eager for something, but exactly what that something is I don't know. "Did they say anything to you?"

"No, I walked out after that," Katniss says.  
>"Without being dismissed?" Effie gasps, putting a hand over her heat.<p>

"I dismissed myself," Katniss quips. "I told them, 'Thank you for your consideration', and left."

Haymitch laughs a loud, bellowing laugh. "Genius!"

Katniss tries to fight back a smile, but I nudge her arm with my elbow. When she looks at me, I whisper, "I told you there was nothing to worry about."

"I would've given anything to see it," Haymitch revels in pure admiration.

Katniss smiles coyly, and I can tell she feels flattered. "So," she starts to say, her voice filled with concern. "You don't think they'll try to punish me, or my family?"

Haymitch laughs loudly. "No, don't be silly. Then they'd have to disclose what you did, and that would cause a riot. Kind off a shame really," he frowns, rubbing his chin. "More people should know how you put those fools in their place."

Effie nods in agreement. "Well, it serves them right. It's their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District 12 is no excuse to ignore you." she looks back and forth at our startled faces so she quickly adds, "I'm sorry, but that's what I think."

"Do you think they'll give me a bad score?" Katniss asks.

Haymitch does a little "hmph" sound and starts cutting up his steak. "I doubt it. If anything, they should award both of you the highest scores for your daring charisma, in my opinion."

I place my hand over Katniss's and squeeze gently. "See?" I taunt in a gentle voice. "No harm done."

Katniss nods, returning equal pressure in our hand hold.

We made it through one challenge, and now it's on to the next.

...


	16. The Scoring

**Author's Note: This, and the upcoming chapter might seem a little disjointed. I apologize for that. I have been writing while in different moods so... I hope it doesn't seem like I'm rushing things between them, and I know my grammar is getting quite terrible so thank you to all who bear with me and are still enjoying the story.**

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><p>Once we're all stuffed with food, we gather in the sitting room to find out the results of our scoring from earlier today. Katniss sits beside me, Haymtich sits next to her, and Effie sits on the other side of me. I wrap an arm around Katniss and use my other arm to link our hands together again. She nestles herself into me as we prepare to hear our results.<p>

Cinna and Portia enter the room just as Ceasar Flickerman's image takes over the screen. Since our stylists weren't needed for the past few days, I'm sure they've busied themselves with more costume ideas.

The showing of the scores is very simple. They bring up a photo of each tribute and flash their assigned score below it. It's no surprise that the Careers have been given scores that range from eight to ten. Everyone else is displayed as not even standing a chance against the powerhouses, what with their low fours and fives. I'm not all that astounded to find out that little Rue from District 11 managed to snag herself a score of seven. I knew she had potential.

Finally, District 12 is called upon. As the male, they start off with me. I hold my breath as Ceasar speaks.

"Gale Hawthorne, with a score of-" A large ten pops up underneath my name. "Ten!"

"Holy shit," I gasp out. That number was more than I had ever expected. How is it that I got matched up at the same level as the Careers?

Katniss wraps her arms around me, saying "Congratulations!" as Haymitch throws a fist into the air and Effie cheers out, "How lovely!". Portia sends me a wink while Cinna claps for me.

What a relief! I was so sure that I had pissed off the judges. I mean, that had been my intention, but I didn't think they would go ahead and award me for being a rebel and showing them some disrespect.

I don't have time to relax however, because Katniss's name is being called next. She grips my hand tightly like a life line as her picture appears alongside the number- "Eleven!"

Effie releases a loud girlish squeal while the rest of the adults clap loudly. Haymitch even throws up a thumbs up at Katniss as I plant a kiss on the top of her head.

"Great job, Catnip,"

"Thanks," she says modestly. "You did good, too. We're in the lead with the Careers now."

"Nice shooting, Sweetheart," Haymitch compliments, looking at Katniss like a proud parent. This is the first time I've seen him so cheerful. "Guess they liked your temper," he remarks before adding, "both of you. They've got a show to put on and you two provided them some players with some heat."

"To Katniss," Cinna says, proposing a toast. "the girl on fire!"

The adults clink their glasses together and have a celebratory drink while I hold Katniss a little bit more closer to me, resting my chin on her shoulder.

"Wait until you see your interview dress," Cinna addresses Katniss who is busying herself by tracing patterns around my hand. Her simple touch is incredibly soothing.

"More flames?" she asks with a teasing smile.

"Of a sort," Cinna answers mischieviously. Then he starts chattering with the rest of our company, leaving Katniss and I in our own little bubble.

"What do you think?" Katniss voice breathes in my ear. I think she's concerned that we might be overheard. "About the scores?"

I smile grimly as I watch how thrilled Effie and Haymitch seem to be now that they're guaranteed to have more publicity thrust upon them due to having the underdog tributes with the highest scores.

"It's good and bad." I state truthfully. "Everyone's going to see us as threats now. They'll probably target us first."

Katniss's tone is deadly serious as she quips with, "Then we'll just have to make sure they can't catch us."

"Good thing I know this amazing girl who knows how to hunt," I remark with a playful smirk.

Katniss sends me her own little smirk, nudging me with her arm. "And good thing I have a strong hunting partner like you who knows how to make traps."

We stare at each other until we both break down with laughter. Our survival in the arena is no joking matter, but Katniss and I both know that there's no reason to worry about it now so long as we have each other to count on.

We start joking about our scores. Katniss says the judges probably gave me a high score because of my good looks, not my hunting skills (ha!), and I counter her by saying that the judges would've declared her the winner right then and there if she had managed to hit Seneca Crane instead of that blasted pig.

"Shh!" Katniss warns, putting a hand over my mouth. She's laughing, but she tries to be stern as she tells me, "You can't say things like that here, Gale."

I scoff. "Fine. Then I'll say that there's some room for improvement."

Katniss shakes her head at me, keeping the smile on her face. "You're so full of it."

Haymitch claps his hands together, calling our attention. "Alright, kids, off to bed. Good job today. Tomorrow we're prepping you for your interviews so grab some sleep, we're waking up early."

Katniss gets up first and I follow after. We bid everyone goodnight and head down the hallway to go to our respective bedrooms. I walk Katniss to her door.

"See you in the morning then," I say. I hate that we have to spend these hours apart, but it's human nature; we need to sleep, and we don't have the privilege of staying up all night talking.

"Yeah," Katniss says. "Goodnight," she pulls me in for a hug and I gladly reciprocate. Holding Katniss feels like serenity and sanctuary all combined into one. After a few seconds, we part from each other and Katniss retreats to her room. I walk over to my own room and prepare for the best sleep I've had in a very long time.

...


	17. I'm Game If You Are

**Author's Note: I am positive there are errors but I just wanted to type this chapter out and upload it for you all already. This week has been so hectic so please forgive me. I went to Sea World, and the County Fair. Plus one of my favorite bands released their album and I'm trying to keep up with everything they're doing... I have a concert and an advanced screening to Spiderman next week so I'll be busy again but I'll try to keep up with my updates. Anyway, here you go!**

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><p>This morning Effie is the one to rouse me awake. She raps her fist on my door and chimes on about how it's going to be a "big, big, big day!". How anyone can be so energetic at the break of dawn is beyond me.<p>

After a hot shower, I'm about eighty percent awake as I make my way into the dining room. Haymitch is buttering a piece of toast and Effie is fixing herself up a cup of coffee.

"Where's Katniss?" I ask as I take my seat.

"She was being difficult about waking up," Effie answers without looking at me. "I expect she'll be joining us soon enough."

An Avox sets a plate of waffles and scrambled eggs in front of me before hurrying away. I grab my fork and start shoveling the food into my mouth, not caring that the heat from it leaves my tongue and throat scorching hot.

"Gale,"

I look up at the sound of my name. It's not Katniss who has called me, but rather Haymitch. I take a huge gulp of orange juice to help clear my mouthful of food before saying, "Yes?"  
>Haymitch looks apprehensive, like he's worried about something.<p>

"You and Katniss... What's your relationship?"

"Our _what_?" I ask, eyes wide and mouth open.

"Your relationship," he repeats. "You seem very close, very comfortable around each other. How did that come about?"

I suddenly feel very defensive and my face becomes unnaturally hot. I don't want to discuss how my bond with Katniss began. We were thrown together by a mutual need to survive, and we consoled each other as we took over as heads of our families after both our fathers died in that wretched mine explosion. I've confided in Katniss about my hatred for the Capitol and my darkest thoughts, and she in turn, has provided me with security, comfort, and hope for a better life; all of the things that I've deeply craved but didn't deserve. What we share is personal, something that I deem as sacred. It's nobody's damn business as to what had transpired between Katniss and I to lead into where we are now.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I ask icily. "Why do you care?"

"I have an idea," Haymitch says calmly. "that could potentially help the two of you to get an advantage in the arena."

I stare him down. I have no other choice but to trust him because he's our mentor. That still doesn't mean I'm going to jump at the chance to play out whatever he's conducted in that alcohol addled mind of his.

"And what is that?" I ask brashly.

"How would you feel about-" Haymitch shifts in his seat. "selling the idea that you are two are helplessly in love?"

I gawk at him, baffled and slightly appalled at his suggestion. What kind of twisted plan was that? My feelings for Katniss were not inept enough to become some private joke for the Capitol's amusement.

I shoot him a dark look and answer with, "I'm not going to do anything that will make me and Katniss look weak. Personally, I'd rather preoccupy myself with taking down Snow than put on some romance show."

Haymitch folds his hands together, looking at me with such a smoldering ferocity that I can't help but withhold the reaction to cringe away.

"Face it, boy, you are about to become a show one way or another. Might as well get the viewers rooting for you because this reel in enough sponsors to ensure that the two of you can ensure a better chance at winning."

I slacken my tightened jaw a bit but I refuse to be persuaded into this without Katniss's consent. How will she feel about us playing out some tragic love story for the whole nation to mourn over?

I look back at my food and say, "I'll only do it if Katniss agrees."

Haymitch lets out an exhale and says, "Alright, better than a flat out no, I suppose."

The three of us attend to our plates and about five minutes later, Katniss shows up.

"Well, it's about time!" Haymitch hollers.

"Sorry," Katniss mumbles before quickening her stride and slipping into the seat beside me. She seems to catch how tense I seem to be because she asks me what's wrong.

As an Avox sets down a plate of food in front of her, I respond with, "Haymitch has a proposition for us."

Katniss narrows her eyes in suspicion. "And what's that?"

Haymitch clears his throat. "It occurred to me that you and Gale seem to share a certain bond with each other, and depending on how willing you are to extend your feelings for one another we can use this to our advantage by selling a love pitch to the Capitol."

Katniss presses her lips together in deep concentration while I try to focus on my meal. I don't want any part of some doomed romance presentation. What would it prove anyway? Why would anyone want to fake their feelings for someone just to secure a few extra moments to their life? Truthfully, I'd rather die than have Katniss play out some charade about pretending to love me if her feelings weren't genuine.

"What exactly do you want us to do?" Katniss asks.

Haymitch shrugs. "Act the way couples do. Hold hands, stare at each other, and if you kiss, do it within reason. You have to make the viewers believe that you would sacrifice yourselves for each other."

We stay silent for about a minute until Katniss speaks up again.

"Gale?" she asks apprehensively. "What do you think?"

"I think I don't have to pretend about anything," I say astutely.

"You've been pretending long enough," Katniss says in such a forceful way that startles me. "keeping me believing that all you wanted was friendship when all this time you've wanted more."

Haymitch's mouth twitches and I know he's enjoying this. I, on the other hand, feel very, very embarrassed. I glance over at Effie to see what has got her acting so quiet throughout this entire exchange, only to find her busying herself with admiring her reflection in the small compact mirror she's holding.

"This is different." I hiss, throwing down my fork. "I don't want to publicize my feelings for you like this."

"What other choice do we have?" Katniss bickers. "I'm surprised you're not even considering it. This is the perfect plan for revenge- they want a show, we're giving them one."

It's true. We can manipulate the Capitol.

I look deep into Katniss's eyes, seeing how desperate she's behaving, and I know it's because she truly believes that together we could pull this off. We had both promised our families that we would try our best to win, and what better way than to use what we have to our advantage?

"Is this really what you want?" I ask in a hard tone.

"Only if you're up for it."

I sigh deeply. "I'll only do it if you tell me that anything that happens won't be just for the Games. What we feel for each other is real and we're not going to fake any of it."

Katniss stares me down, her eyes blazing with a silent appeasement that I recognize after all our past trades together. She is entrusting me and expects me to do the same.

"There's nothing that I would have to fake with you,"

A smile creeps across my lips. I feel better now. I needed that verification that she wasn't going to go about this solely because it was an easy way out- to pretend to be in love with me, rather than appropriately acting upon our true feelings.

"Good," I say pleasantly. "Me either."

"So it's a yes?"

I smirk. "I'm game if you are."

Katniss leans forward to address Haymitch in a triumphant voice, "We'll do it."

Haymitch grins, laughing a roaring laugh. "Excellent! It wouldn't have worked with as well if you were acting with someone else, eh?"

I frown at that. How would I feel if someone else was in my place, acting in love with Katniss? Would she have agreed to this same plan with that person? No, Haymitch said he thinks it would work because Katniss and I are already close. It wouldn't work with anyone else.

"We won't be acting," Katniss says sharply.

Haymitch looks amused, smiling with tight lips, eyebrows raised. "I hope not," he says brusquely. "but now that we have that settled, let's finish our breakfast and start our preparations. You'll each have four hours with Effie for presentation and four with me for content. You start with Effie, Katniss."

The rest of our meal is spent in silence, Katniss and I exchanging smiles every now and then. I wonder how I'm going to survive the next four hours of my life with Haymitch and the overly cheerful Effie.


	18. Preparations

**Author's Note: I know, I know. It's been three weeks. I don't really have an excuse other than I've barely gotten back into the swing of writing but I'm not really having full on ideas to go on so I'm sort of dragging everything along. That, and it's so difficult being a fan girl. Anyway, I'm quite proud of this chapter so I hope all of you are happy with it. Thanks to my reviewers for such positive feedback! Here you go!**

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><p>"What approach would you like to take?" Haymitch asks after we've situated ourselves in the sitting room.<p>

"Er, approach?" I ask stupidly.

"How do you want to be presented?" he questions somberly.

"Um. I'm not sure." I respond, shrugging casually.

I think about how I act around others. Around my brothers, I act playful but also try to be a strong figure for them to look up to. Around Katniss, I am relentless about my thoughts, and protective when we hunt and potential danger is lurking nearby. At school, I am casual, trying to be friendly and courteous to everyone in a civil manner. But I suppose in my admirer's eyes I could be considered charming, although I can't really see how I would be since I don't try to draw attention to myself on purpose.

Haymitch stares at me like he's trying to see if I'm hiding something, as if there's some secret lurking inside of me bubbling and waiting to be unleashed.

"What makes you happy?" he fires off.

I blink, feeling perplexed. What a random question.

"My family," I answer honestly. I try to ignore the empty space inside me as I mentally include my father within that context. "And Katniss."

"Okay, I want you to talk about them and try to smile when you do so." he instructs, sitting up a bit more straighter. "Try not to look so serious. Laugh during appropriate moments. Keep your voice mellow, like you want to contribute to the conversation. We have to get the audience to feel like they know you."

Right. Winning them over is the main objective if I want sponsors. We're nothing if we're not memorable.

Haymitch clears his throat. "Pretend I'm Ceasar." He leans forward, relaxing his face to stare at me with a blank expression. "So, tell me, how prepared do you feel going into the Games?"

I state in a flat tone, "I don't know. How does anyone really prepare for this sort of thing?"

"No, no, no!" Haymitch wails, throwing his arms up. "Don't make it sound like you're above them or they'll turn against you. We're aiming for charming, not incompetent. Pretend everyone in the audience are your friends."

"They're betting on how long I'll live," I reply bitterly.

"They're also the ones who have the power in helping you in the arena. And if you keep behaving like this you won't be around for much longer."

I shoot a glare at Haymitch but he doesn't even seem bothered by it. His words are cruel but true nonetheless.

"I'm only trying to help you," he reminds me in a cold voice. "I had to go through this once, too, so you would do well to listen to what I have to say."

I scowl. "Fine."

"Let's start over then. How confident are you about going into the arena?"

"I guess... I feel good. It's a testament of my strength. I'm not very worried."

"So you don't see the others as much as a threat?"

"Only those who don't see me as one."

Haymitch chuckles. "Good, good. So, what was it like, getting reaped?"

I take a second to think it over. It was the worst feeling. I don't even know how to describe it.

"Er... I – I knew there was a high possibility of getting called. I signed up for tessarae enough times to increase my odds enough but it was still shocking to hear my name and knowing that I'm factored into the risk of death." I shrug, pretending to be indifferent about losing my life. "But I was relieved, too. I didn't want my brother to get called."

"You have a brother?"

"Two, both younger. Rory is twelve, and Vick is ten. I also have a sister, Posy, she's two."

"What was the last thing you said to them?"

I swallow hard. I haven't thought about my family lately because I don't want to feel homesick. I need to remain strong for them. But thinking of them now makes my throat raw and my insides go cold. I may never see them again.

"I told them I'll do my best to win for them. They need me to come back home..."

"And there's nothing standing in your way of that goal?"

"Um..." I'm not sure how I'm expected to release our love revelation. Perhaps being slightly terrified is the way to go. "There might be one thing..."

"Oh?"

"I..." I shake my head. "What am I supposed to say?" I ask, falling back to regular conversation.

Haymitch puts a hand on his forehead and grumbles out, "You were doing so well."

"Sorry," I spit back bitterly.

"You'll have to say whatever comes to mind. You're thinking too much. The audience won't pay attention if you don't keep the conversation lively.

"I'm no good at this," I complain with a frown.

Haymitch shakes his head. "As long as you act like you are that's all that matters."

I take a deep breath. "Alright, let's go over it again."

As I work on my speaking eloquence, Haymitch gives me more advice. Don't talk too much, but don't leave any free air time or else the audience will think they don't know me well enough. Smile, but don't smile too much or else it will come off looking fake. Be aware, but remain at ease. This is all supposed to be considered a simple task but to me the whole thing is daunting.

Eventually my time with Haymitch runs out and I'm directed back to my bedroom. Nothing had changed aside from the sheets. I suppose an Avox came in and swapped them for a clean set. I sit down on the bed and wait for Effie. I wonder what she's going to make me do. I expect the worst but I try to remain positive.

Effie enters the room through the open door carrying a large garment bag. She shuts the door closed behind her and fear sets in. Who knows what Cinna and Portia cooked up for me to wear. I will look fancy and awkward, I know it.

As if taunting me, Effie slowly unzips the bag and reveals an expensive looking two piece garment. It's a tuxedo.

I cringe. I've never even worn a suit before, how am I going to pull off being showcased in this- this, for a lack of a better word, costume- because that's what it is. This material has not been designed to benefit me in any range of comfort at all.

"You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to wear that," I say, grimacing as Effie pulls out the clothes.

Effie gives me one of her infamous looks of disapproval, eyebrows furrowing, eyes narrowed, lips tightened.

"You will do as you are told, Mr-" she says, pausing mid threat. My name has escaped her. I can tell by the way her mouth is gaping open and closed like a fish. "Mr..."

"Gale Hawthorne," I state affirmatively.

"Ah, yes," Effie replies, acting normal again. "Now, go change. Don't make me have to dress you myself."

I nearly blurt out a noise of repulsion but catch myself just in time, placing a hand over my mouth and coughing instead. Having Effie undress me is something I never want to experience.

I repress my irritation as I reach out and take my assigned outfit and walk over to the bathroom to change. I grumble out obscenities under my breath as I exchange my normal clothes for this fancy pair. I pull off my T-shirt and maneuver my arms into the dress shirt. Fiddling with all the unnecessary buttons, yanking down the sleeves to proportion within my arm length and rolling back the cuffs so my wrists are no longer weighed down. I smooth out the collar, leaving the top two buttons undone before moving onto the pants. The material is stiff as I lower myself into them. I don't require a belt. Surprisingly, it seems that all this Capitol food has bulked me up a bit. I put on the overcoat jacket- I think it's called a blazer or something- and pull it on until it rests well over my shirt. Upon closer inspection I see that the ends of my sleeves have red, yellow, and orange embroidery stitched on them to resemble flames. The stylists have burned me with Katniss's fire.

I exit the bathroom and walk back to the bedroom where I find Effie sitting down on the bed tapping a pen against a clipboard she holds in her left hand. When she sees me appear she stands up and smiles with so much allure it's almost like I walked in the room carrying her favorite dress.

"What a transformation!" she exclaims. "Don't you look handsome?"

My face heats up in embarrassment so naturally, I look away. I'm not sure how I look because I didn't bother to look in the mirror but I'm sure I don't look anything but ridiculous.

"Okay, we still have to put this on," Effie says, setting down her clipboard and picking up a piece of flimsy black material.

"What is that?"

"A bow tie."

I grimace. "Can't I wear a normal tie?"

Effie makes a "tsk" sound. "Not with this."

I make a disgruntled face as Effie pokes around my neck and fastens the bow tie, buttoning the top buttons of my shirt to adjust it correctly. It's like I'm being put in a noose.

"I'm choking," I rasp out.

"You can talk, you're fine." Effie backs away and picks up her clipboard again. "Sit," she directs, pointing at the bed.

I sit down on the edge and unconsciously lean forward and duck my head.

"Don't slouch!" Effie complains. "And keep your head raised."

I straighten my back and tilt my head up.

Effie inclines her head to the side and analyzes my profile. "Yes, that seems better."

The rest of our time is spent having Effie critique every little aspect she can find wrong with me. In one case, it's my laugh.

"What's wrong with my laugh?" I ask in bewilderment.

"It sounds terribly forced. Pitch your voice higher."

I make myself laugh again, sounding more like a bass soprano than whatever Effie is making me out to be.

Effie pouts. "That'll have to do. Remember that you're appealing to the audience, you have to appear approachable,"

I have serious doubts that I'll be able to pull that off.

I'm excused to dinner after I change back into my regular outfit and Effie puts away the tuxedo back into the bag where it will rest until

I am to wear it again tomorrow evening.

When I walk into the dining I see Haymitch at the table, slumped over and clutching a large bottle of liquor. Katniss is no where in sight. I walk over to the table.

"Where's Katniss?" I ask, standing behind my chair.

Haymitch slowly turns his head and huffs when he sees me. "Your girlfriend's got a nasty temper."

"You should see mine," I reply curtly. "so where is she?"

"Obviously not here, boy,"

I'm already so annoyed from dealing with Effie for so long that I don''t know how much tolerance I'll have for any more tomfoolery.

"What did you do to her?"

"What do you mean, what did I do to her?" Haymitch asks, raising his head and glowering at me through clouded eyes. "She's too hard to maintain is the problem. She got upset and she left. Now sit down. Eat. Where's Effie?"

I grit my teeth together and say, "Obviously not here," before turning around and leaving Haymitch behind.

...


	19. Just Like Fire

I walk back down the hallway and stop right in front of Katniss's door. Right when I'm about to knock I hear her yell out, "Just leave it! Just leave it alone!"

I peer in the crack of the open doorway to see the girl from the woods, one of the Avoxes, standing a foot away from the door, staring at Katniss who is standing in front of her looking utterly distressed and clutching a plate in her hands.

The Avox turns to close the door but as soon as she spots me behind it she retreats a few steps back. Katniss turns to look at what startled the girl and when her eyes meet mine she seems surprised to see me standing here.

"Gale," she breathes out. "What are you doing here?"

"I... You weren't in the dining room. I came to check on you."

"Oh," she looks away, face flushed. "I - I didn't want to be around Haymitch any longer."

I nod. "That's understandable." I look at the Avox before looking back at Katniss and realize I've interrupted something. "Should I come back later?"

"Yes. I'll have to help clean up this mess," she frowns at the destruction she created.

"I can help you," I offer.

The Avox looks at me with uncertainty. _Is she scared of me, _I wonder, _or maybe she hates me?_

"If you want to," Katniss says, giving me the option to stay or leave.

I step inside the room, nodding at the Avox to convey that I mean no harm. She frowns at me. I imagine she thinks it's wrong for us to help her with her duties. Could an Avox get in trouble for having others help them?

"You shouldn't have to strain yourself," I tell her in a low voice. I lower my eyes and keep my voice gentle. "Also, I'm sorry we didn't try to save you."

"I'm sorry too," Katniss whispers. "I feel so guilty about it."

The Avox shakes her head.

"No, it was wrong," Katniss argues.

The Avox taps her lips with her fingers and then points at Katniss, then me.

Is she saying that we woud've ended up just like her? Avoxes, serving a lifetime of servitude for the monsters that maliciously run our country.

No, perhaps we would've ended up dead for being accomplices.

I hang my head. "Still, it was selfish of us."

The Avox shakes her head again before patting our shoulders in consolation. I'm not sure what she's trying to say but I think it means she's forgiven us. She must have come to terms that if she had been in our place she would have done the same. That, and she has to bear witness to seeing our own form of living out a terrible consequence. Maybe it's karma. Maybe it's fate.

Katniss places her hand on the girl's arm in a gesture of reassurance. Her eyes shine with remorse and understanding. "It's all okay now," she says. It sounds like she's trying to convince all of us with her words. It was far from the truth, we all knew it, but we didn't dare say it. "C'mon, let's clean this up."

"Tell me," I say as I unload the collected bits of ceramic that the Avox had picked out of the carpet into the waste basket. "how did all these broken dishes come about? Target practice?"

Katniss's face flushes red. Her voice comes out flat and steady. "I was angry. I had to let out my frustration somewhere."

It made sense since we no longer had the woods to run off to, Katniss had sought other means.

"Let's be glad that it was the floor that got harmed and not Haymitch's face." she says astutely.

"Speak for yourself – look at the state of these plates! All gone to waste..." I say, shaking my head, feigning sadness.

Katniss doesn't catch my lame attempt at humor. She stares at me as if I've sprouted an extra head.

"I'm kidding, Katniss."

She sends me a look, the weary kind that shows she would scold me but she's not in the mood to.

"Anyway, what did he do to you?"

Katniss waves a hand in the air as if she's smacking away a fly. "It's...it's nothing. You know how he is." Hey gray eyes flit from the Avox girl and then back at me.

The Avox seems to gather that Katniss won't talk unless we're alone, so she stands up to leave but I raise a hand and stop her. "It's not you," I assure with a smile. "Catnip just likes avoiding direct questions."

Katniss huffs at my comment. She turns to pick up the remains of yet another dish off from the carpet before speaking again. "Haymitch couldn't fit me with any approach at all."

I narrow my eyes, taking in her deep expression. "That's not what's bothering you. Did he say something?"

Katniss drops her collection of ceramic bits into the waste bin where they clatter loudly when they crash among the rest. "He said I've got as much charm as a dead slug."

My eyes widen while the Avox puts a hand to her mouth, a small hiss escaping in a form of what would be a gasp.

"And then he gave up and said not to show the audience how much I hate them." Katniss's lower lip trembles and her hands curl into fists but that's as far as she goes to show weakness in front of us. "I'm trying to do what I can but am I really so – so..." she stomps her foot on the ground. "I'm nothing! And now I've let Prim down... I don't know what to do."

The Avox walks over to her, extending her hand in a jerky, hesitant manner before giving Katniss a comforting pat on the back.

"Thank you," Katniss says, voice taunt but thick with appreciation.

The Avox turns her mouth into a sad smile. She nods before backing away and returning to the task of cleaning. We've pretty much cleared it all up so she busies herself with gathering the trash bag.

"Katniss, don't let this get to you," I sat, moving forward until I'm holding her hand in mine. "You're brave, you're strong..." I can't help but grin as I think of all the attributes I love about her. "you make me laugh, you're passionate about what you believe in, you'll do anything to protect the people you care about, and you're not afraid to speak your mind. And... And I think you're amazing. Wonderful, really."

Katniss's eyes glisten as moisture builds up in them each time she blinks. "You really think so?"

I nod slowly.

There's movement behind us so we both turn to inspect. It's the Avox making a break for the door, sensing that we want to be alone and there's no longer any need for her to be here.

"Oh, sorry," I hold up my hand again, stopping her mid step. "if it's not too much to ask, could you bring me a plate of whatever is left over from dinner, please?"

The Avox nods solemnly and disappears through the doorway. I drop my hand and turn back to Katniss. Her eyes travel from my eyes to the planes of my face as she speaks. Her voice is low, fearful. "Gale, what if they don't like me? What if I can't get any sponsors? What if – ?"

I put all of her doubt to rest by placing my hands on either side of her face and leaning in with closed eyes. My lips touch hers and we're finally kissing. It feels like a match has been lit, igniting a fire inside of me that is slow and scorching, leaving my skin hot and my mind fuddled with nothing but the essence of the overall feeling. Our mouths open slightly and our breaths mingle together as our lips move against each other, meshing together tenderly as we reflect our internal yearning for one another that we've held back on acting upon for so long. Katniss's arms slither around my neck, her fingers weaving through my hair as she pulls herself closer to me until there's no more space between us.

As much as I don't want to end this, I slowly extract my face away after brushing my lips against hers one last time. I rest my forehead against hers as the both of us fight to catch our breath.

"You made me like you," I tell her, stroking her face with the pads of my thumbs as I continue to cradle her face with my hands. "The Capitol doesn't stand a chance."

Just like fire, her spirit cannot be contained.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I'll bet you weren't expecting that ;) To be honest, I wasn't planning on having them kiss just yet but I had the idea to put in this scene so I went with it. Tell me your thoughts if you think it turned out okay. A big thank you to everyone who is giving me kind reviews. You are all too sweet, and can we be friends please? :)<strong>


	20. The Interview

**Author's Note: I regret to inform you that I will be starting school again this upcoming Monday so I'm not sure how my updates will be turning out. I'll try to continue writing as much as I can but I won't know my new update schedule until I develop my class rhythm and see exactly how much work my professors are going to give me. In the meantime, I made a long chapter this time around for you guys. I wasn't sure how I wanted it to turn out but I'm quite pleased with this so I hope you are as well. Two more things I want to say! One, you've been asking me to speed up the story so I did! The rooftop scene will be in the next chapter and the following chapter will be the tributes finally going into the arena, okay? I know everyone is excited for that ;) Second, thank you for all the feedback! If you want to interact with me to see how my writing process is going, you can reach me on Twitter, I love making new friends so don't be shy! With that being said, let's get on with it. Best wishes, everyone!**

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><p>I ate my dinner while Katniss practiced what to say for her interview. We flipped through basic topics we knew Caesar would ask about: family, life at home, our state of mentality going into the games, our strengths, and most importantly- our motive for winning. After some time Katniss started to ramble and fumble over her words so I distracted her even more by making the same silly faces I use back at home to make Posy laugh. Katniss tried not to laugh but she was unsuccessful, so she started to make faces back at me until we're both rolling on the floor in hysterics. The rest of the night passed in a blur but it's the happiest I've been in awhile. It's like nothing's changed and yet everything has. Katniss and I are back to being close friends and just as quickly we're committing ourselves to each other by admitting our feelings towards one another. I never would've dreamed that our relationship would've come to this, so drastic, so intense, so quick.<p>

I'm still mulling over all of these new prospects of change developing in my life before I get called up to go on stage next now that Katniss's interview is done. I head up the steps that lead up to the large platform that looks overhead to the audience all engrossed, sitting in their seats in tacky outfits as they watch me make my entrance. I walk over to Caesar, looking past his powder blue hair, his shiny black suit, his surgically enhanced face that makes him look not a day over thirty, and I plaster on a large grin as I lean forward to shake his hand. The crowd, which is about a few more than a thousand people I suspect, applaud and cheer so loudly that the entire building reverberates with the noise. It's not until Caesar and I sit down in the large plush chairs that everyone settles down.

It's time to win them over. District 12 is counting on me. I must deliver this performance or Haymitch's plan will all go to waste.

The first question that comes out of Caesar's mouth is one that I had not anticipated.

"What is it like, trying to stand up to high expectations after your _lavish_-" he says the it so eloquently, rolling off his tongue like some exotic word most people might mispronounce. "appearance at the opening ceremonies?"

I act surprised, raising my eyebrows and sounding confused when I reply with, "I think it'll be hard to top over the whole _getting set on fire_."

The audience laughs as Caesar buckles out a hearty chuckle, slapping his knee for an extra effect.

"Yes, I'm sure." he says. "The stylists outdid themselves this year. Of course, they had great tributes to work with – look at you!" he raises a hand, moving it up and down to gesture at my outfit as he calls out to the audience, "Doesn't he look fantastic?"

There are loud shrieks and whistles from the audience that make me want to run backstage and never return back to the greedy, leeching eyes of the Capitol, but in order to comply with this charming image I have to work with, I chuckle nervously and rub the back of my neck so I come off as coy, yet both equally brash about my appearance.

"Don't let my looks fool you. I'm a fighter."

Caesar beams at me. "Well that's good to hear! We're sure to have someone to root for, especially with that training score of yours – a ten! Were you expecting that?"

_Don't boast,_ I know Haymitch would say. _But act confident._

"I... I had a feeling I would do well," I keep my voice leveled. "I did everything I could, and when it's time for me to go into the arena, I'll do even more."

Caesar puckers his lips and raises his eyebrows, looking extremely awestruck. There's no denying the admiration adorning his tone when he says, "I must say, I will _most_ definitely be looking forward to seeing that. It seems there's nothing stopping you from winning is there?"

I think he meant his question to be rhetorical but I prepare to answer him, taking the cue to dive into the big reveal. However, before I can even open my mouth again, Caesar is already launching into his next inquiry. I know if I wait too long, the interview will be over and I will have had screwed this all up for everyone.

"Who's your biggest competition?"

I venture back to my prep interview with Haymitch and reply with my original quip of, "Anyone who doesn't see me as one."

Caesar guffaws. "You've got some backbone on you! I like it!" he turns to face the audience again, yelling out, "How about the rest of you? Don't you all like a young man with nothing intimidating him?"

_Not "nothing",_ I think to myself. _There's a girl who has my heart on her sleeve and rest assured, she intimidates the hell out of me._

But I can't say that. Not with the loud clash of applause erupting all over the building again. I do my best to laugh along with Caesar, but it's no where near as genuine as when Katniss and I were poking fun at each other, the sound is garbled and hollow coming out of my mouth but no one seems to catch it.

"So, Gale, I _have_ to ask for the sake of our female viewers, is there anyone special back at home rooting for you to win?"

This is it. There's no room for error.

"Hmm. Well, there _is_ this extraordinary girl that I've liked for awhile now... but she's not at home."

"Oh? Is she here with us?"

There's a murmur amongst the audience as they look around to see if the girl will reveal herself.

I chuckle. "Yeah, she is. She's backstage right now."

There's a loud unified gasp in the crowd. I smirk. This is going better than we rehearsed it. I hope I can keep this up for the biggest shock of all.

Caesar shakes his head, looking completely baffled. "You've gotten a soft spot for one of your competitors then?"

I nod slowly, prolonging from the final reveal for a more dramatic effect. "Yes. You all know her..." I flit my eyes away for a second, going for that vulnerable look. "The girl on fire – Katniss Everdeen."

The building fills with loud chatter as the gossip begins but Caesar silences it with one wave of his hand. His eyes are trained on me, shining with hundreds of questions to bombard me with. The way he sits on the edge of his seat, leans forward, face illuminated, and mouth gaping, he looks like a child begging for further details on an adventure story. But I don't look at Caesar for long, nor does anyone else because the large screens scattered around the room are all projecting Katniss's face, her admiring, blushing face as she stands nearby, watching the interview unfold.

"That's some very unfortunate luck." Caesar says gravely.

I nod in agreement.

"Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady." he speaks with a slight edge of pain in his voice. "Did she have any idea?"

"I hope not." I admit, rubbing my chin now as I try to cover up the heat prickling my skin. "I tried to keep my feelings hidden. We're close friends but only until recently I've come to realize that -" I close my eyes for a second. I'm literally cringing in my seat but I guess that's good, the audience will think I'm holding back from crying or something. _Spit it out!_ I snap at myself. This isn't how I wanted to tell Katniss how I feel, how I actually _truly_ feel but I have no other choice. It has to be this way. "I'm in love with her."

Gasps are heard all around, the screen panels are cut in half to show me on the set and Katniss in the backroom, both airing the live coverage to project our reactions. I watch as Katniss's jaw drops. The blush on her cheeks is unmistakable. She covers her mouth with her hands. She is the perfect image of someone who is astounded and undergoing a whirlwind of emotions.

The sounds of a buzzer sounds. "I'm afraid our time is up." Caesar declares before the audience starts screaming in assent. "I must say best of luck to you," he places his and on his chest. "and I think I speak for everyone when I say our hearts go with yours."

"Thank you," I say as I rise from my seat. Caesar copies my action and gesture his hand once more at me. "Gale Hawthorne from District 12!"

I wave at everyone with a sheepish smile on my face, looking straight at the cameras and hoping that back at home my family can see me missing them. The audience roars with cheers, hoots, applause, whistles, and chants of "District Twelve!"

I'm escorted off stage and I head back to my designated seat in the back room which is basically an extended part of the building, as big as the training center, a place of gathering until the appropriate time of action. I look for Katniss, Haymitch, Effie, and our stylists but there's too many people around as a flurry of reporters pass through.

Everyone stands for the national anthem and instead of the trademark image of the Capitol seal emblazoned on every screen, there is a picture of Katniss and I, separated by a few inches of space, providing the perception of how the both of us will never be able to coincide together to fulfill a happily ever after.

When the anthem ends, all tributes are directed to the Training Center lobby and onto the elevators. I try to keep an eye out for the sparkling, bold red dress that Cinna had Katniss wear, but I don't spot her anywhere in the masses of people moving past so I reluctantly get inside one of the cars with the females from District 1, 2, and 11. Glimmer, the provocative blonde from District One doesn't hesitate to approach me as soon as the doors close.

"Hello, handsome." she greets in a seductive tone, angling her body towards me, curving her neck to bat her eyelashes at me and slyly jutting out her chest to press my attention to her exposed cleavage but I don't give her the satisfaction. I turn my head and look away, scooting closer to tiny little Rue who is in the back corner posing as a wallflower.

"Oh, don't act like I'm not worth looking at compared to -" Glimmer starts to say, getting worked up at having been disregarded, but before she can go further into working in her insult, the District 2 girl, Clove, intervenes.

"Leave him alone." she says in exasperation, as if she's fed up with this behavior of hers. "He's not worth it."

The elevator chimes as we reach the first floor. Glimmer throws back her hair and angrily spits out at me, "Whatever. I don't expect a boy who likes trash to appreciate someone like me." The doors open and she steps out. I also step forward behind her, prepared to snap something back at her but before I can, Glimmer turns on her heel and smirks at my tense posture and infuriated expression.

"You can insult me all you want but don't you dare insult Katniss." I hiss.

"Ooh, you're even hotter when you're mad." she croons with a wink before blowing me a kiss.

And before I can give her a piece of my mind, the elevator doors close shut and we're lifted to the next floor. I press my fists to my sides and try to calm down. I glance at Clove who scowls at me before rolling her eyes and turning away. If Glimmer is so arrogant and egotistical, then Clove is the exact opposite, but in a different way because she has no problem making it known of how much she hates me. The next floor is hers so she storms off without a second glance. The tension lifts now that the Careers are gone. I take a deep breath before turning to Rue. I don't want to leave her with a bad impression of myself.

"Hi," I say, holding out my hand. "I'm Gale."

Rue's round deep brown eyes stare at my hand for a moment before she shakes my hand with hers. A large toothy grin spreads across her face that reminds me of Prim's smile when she sees me. "I know. I remembered you from the opening ceremonies."

I raise an eyebrow, silently wondering what exactly she means. I've only paid her notice when we were in the Training Center.

"It's hard to overlook the fire thing," she clarifies, sensing my puzzlement.

"Oh. Right." I let our hand drops.

"So, is it true... you and Katniss?" she says teasingly, reminding me of how Rory used to insinuate such ideas. "Or is it a ploy?"

I feel my face heating up so I chuckle and turn away. "You're very smart for your age." I say, glancing at her from the corners of my eyes. Rue waits patiently for me to continue, swaying back and forth to make her dress rustle and sparkle with each small movement, making her look even more like a young princess.

"No matter how this plays out, I care about Katniss very much." I say, weighing every word carefully. "This is more than just a game to me."

There are consequences. Deadly consequences. And high stakes. Stakes I can't fathom to risk.

There's some silence before Rue speaks up again. "That's too bad..." she sounds very saddened. "how things worked out for you."

I nod, feeling my throat constricting as a lump rises in my throat. I take off my bow tie and stuff it into my pocket before unbuttoning the top buttons of my shirt that press tightly against my neck. I release a shaky breath. Much better.

"Does she like you too?"

"Yes." I answer confidently, hearing the smile in my voice that bears all too much relief. "Yeah, it seems that way. I'm very lucky."

"Well that's good." Rue says cheerfully. "You two looked really happy together on the chariot." she giggles. "And I'd catch you two staring at each other in the Training Center like a couple of lovebirds."

I chuckle, facing her with a wide smile on my face. It's hard to be serious around Rue, like Prim, she carries a carefree spirit that naturally brings warmth to you. "A couple of lovebirds, huh?"

Rue nods enthusiastically.

"Hmm..." I ponder over that as the elevator halts at the eleventh floor. Before the doors can open I say, "Hey, if you'd like some allies in the arena..." I shrug with one shoulder, leaving the suggestion up for her to infer and decide on.

Rue nods once. "Okay." she confirms before stepping out. "Goodnight!" she bids, waving as she leaves.

"Goodnight," I call back. "and be careful!" I can't help but add. After all, she's still a child and my brotherly instinct kicks in when I'm around her in the way that it would back at home with my siblings and Prim.

"You too!" she replies before the doors closes and I'm carried to the last floor. When the doors open, I'm back at the penthouse suite. I walk forward towards the commotion I hear coming from the dining room.

When I walk in, all chatter stops. Haymitch raises a hand in my direction, bellowing, "The man of the hour!" he steps forward to give me a hard pat on the back. "Bravo! Well done!"

Effie swings her arms up and down before clapping her hands together. "You were magnificent! District 12 is all anyone's talking about!"

Katniss appears behind them, smiling when her eyes meet mine. "Gale, you did it!"

We rush to each other, breaking the distance between us in a few strides. I lift her into my arms, moving us around in a circle. Katniss squeals out and giggles in delight. The sound of it is so foreign, nearly unrecognizable, but it's still music to my ears. When I set Katniss back down on the ground, I keep my arms around her, holding her close before facing Haymitch and Effie.

"So they bought it?" I ask.

"Hook, line, and sinker." Haymitch boasts. "You two are going to have sponsors lined up around the block."

"And there's nothing to _buy_ necessarily," Effie chips in. "since you two are so naturally in love already."

I look back at Katniss, her face bright and blushing. "You love me?" she asks, luring me into saying it to her and her alone.

"Yes, I love you. I'm pretty sure I always have. It just took awhile to figure it out and act on it. Better late than never, right?"

"Yes." Katniss agrees before standing up on her tiptoes and pressing her lips against mine.

When we pull apart, Haymitch proposes that it's time for a celebratory dinner. I politely ask to change out of my dress clothes before we eat and Katniss joins in, clearly uncomfortable in her flowing gown. We're allowed to leave, and after we're dressed in regular shirts and pants, we go back over to the dinning room and join the other two along with Cinna and Portia who have arrived.

"You two are all the rage right now!" Cinna announces when he sees us walk in.

And throughout the rest of the dinner that consists of cream and rose petal soup, it's an onslaught of compliments and appraisal from the adults as they level in our new found fame. With the new image of District 12's star-crossed lovers, we've blown away all the other tributes off the map.

After double helpings, we all gather in the sitting room to watch the replay of the interviews. Katniss and I curl up on one of the cushions, holding our hands together and exchanging glances every now and then.

The Katniss I see through the screen appears as a different entity compared to the one I hold close to me now. The one on TV is giggling and twirling as she shows how her dress flares out in flames. She is desirable and silly and approachable. It's the Katniss I only get to see in the woods where no one else is around. Then I see myself on screen, watching only for a few seconds before turning away and pressing my forehead into Katniss's shoulder, breathing in the soft scent of hers, a mixture of pinewood and flowers that remind me of the woods, of home, of safety. I hear my voice on screen during the confession and Katniss rustles, pushing me back until she can look at me properly.

"Gale?"

"Yeah?"

Her eyes never flicker, her voice doesn't waver when she says, "I love you, too."

We smile as we kiss, our lips soft and tender as our love flows through us like energy passing from one source to another. We move apart when the anthem ends and the screen goes dark. There is a stillness in the air, the eerie familiarity of an inevitable farewell. Tonight is our final night here before our departure into the arena. Haymitch and Effie have to leave soon to the Games Headquarters where they will assemble with the other district mentors and manage signing up sponsors. Right now is the last time we'll see them so we must say our goodbyes now.

I nudge Katniss and together we stand. Effie comes up to us first, taking both of us by the hand and wishing us well. "I wish you two all the best of luck," she says with tears pooling around her eyes. "and thank you for being the best tributes I've ever had the privilege to sponsor. Then she ruins the sentimental moment by adding, "I wouldn't be surprised if I finally get promoted to a decent district next year!"

I place a strained smile on my face. Always turning the outcomes back into her favor that Effie.

She kisses us each on the cheek and hurries out of the room as fast as her high heels can take her.

Haymitch sighs deeply before he rises off the couch. When he stands in front of us, he crosses his arms and looks us over with a face that hides all emotion.

"So..." he says before coughing, trying to lighten the mood.

"Any final words of advice?" I ask.

"When the gong sounds, get the hell out of there. You're neither of you up to the blood bath at the Cornucopia, Just clear out, put as much distance between yourselves and the others, and try to find a source of water." he says. "Also, wait until the first night is over before you try to pair up with each other – that's when the alliances are made and if you want to work as a team you'll have to take them by surprise. And remember that one second can make all the difference between life and death so don't give anyone the opportunity to catch you off guard. Always stay one step ahead. Got it?"

We nod, pressing the words into our memory.

Haymitch's shoulders slacken as he sighs again, softer this time, a sound of weariness and defeat. "Above all, stay alive, alright?"

We nod again. Haymitch isn't fooling around this time, he has our best interests at heart.

"Okay," he says gruffly. "I know we got off to a bad start and everything but I'm rather fond of you kids now." he grins. "I know if anyone's got a chance of winning, it's you two."

I hold out my hand. "Thanks for putting up with us."

Haymitch shakes my hand and claps me on the back. "You're a good man, Gale." He moves away to turn to Katniss who holds a firm stance similar to my own. She won't be as easily swayed.

Haymitch's lips twitch. "You need to lose the scowl, Sweetheart."

"Ha," Katniss says with a feigned laugh, clearly not having expected that.

Haymitch rocks back on his heels. "Good luck you two." And he turns around to head for the elevator in the foyer. When he turns the corner, that's the last we see of him. If Haymitch believes in us, then surely we must have a fighting chance. If Panem believes in us, then we have a stronger possibility of winning. And if Katniss and I believe in each other, then surely we will be unstoppable.

...


	21. I've Been Called To Where I Belong

_I lay down on the cold ground  
>I, I pray that something picks me up<br>And sets me down in your warm arms_

"Set Fire To the Third Bar" by Snow Patrol

**Author's Note: No, your notification was correct, this is indeed a new chapter. It's not really a chapter though, it's pretty short. I apologize in advance. I'll let you read. My excuses will be at the bottom.**

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><p>It's impossible to sleep with all the racket happening outside down in the Town Square. All the citizens are busy celebrating. It's as if they don't have the need to sleep – they probably think they're too good for sleep. Either that or there's no curfews being enforced tonight.<p>

I get up out of bed without the slightest idea of where I'm going. My feet tread onward with a sense of direction of which my mind is unaware of. It's not until I make it to the rooftop and see a dark outline of a female figure that I realize, somehow, inexplicably, I was being led to Katniss, like a ship following a light house beacon. I've been called to where I belong.

Katniss, with her sharp hearing from hunting in the woods for so long, catches the sound of my approaching footsteps. Usually, I try to keep my feet as quiet as possible, but I know we're already attuned to the presence of each other. She turns quickly, face taunt and apprehensive until it melts into relief and ease when she sees that it's only me, confirming her suspicion.

"Couldn't sleep either?" she asks, a hint of amusement coloring her tone. Anyone else would think her voice was flat, emotionless, but I can detect what's hidden there.

I shake my head and stand beside her, overlooking the railing to see the Town Square filled with bright lights, packed bodies of people, and loud sound. Everyone out there is celebrating for all the wrong reasons.

"I've come up with a compromise," Katniss declares after a moment.

"I'm listening," I say, turning to face her.

Her eyes are distant when she speaks. She only looks like this when she's afraid but doesn't want to show it. She tries to focus on something else. "Can we both agree that District 12 will have a victor this year? Our families are depending on the earnings."

I press my lips together, not ignoring the fact that she is outright speaking of the possibility of her fated death, the possibility of it, and how I would be expected to carry on without her. I honestly don't know if I could. But if this is what she's asking of me, if this is her final wish, I have to honor her request no matter how difficult it would be to live in a world that she is no longer a part of. All the very few simple, mundane pleasures in life will cease to exist. I can't think about this now.

I lower my head, my jaw tensing. "Alright."

Her voice trembles slightly when she speaks again. "If... if _I_ win," she moves away, turning her face so it is cast within the shadows. "I won't mind bringing your family into the Victor's Village with my own and sharing what we have as long as you do the same with my family if you win."

I nod. There are reasonable, considerate conditions. "That's not a problem. I would've asked the same."

"And in the end," she continues, still refusing to look at me. "if we end up –" she chokes out the next word. "_dying,"_ we both flinch for a split second. It's not the idea of dying that scares us, but the idea of letting our families down is refutable.

"Then we die in honor," she says. "so no hard feelings if we're unable to save each other..."

I probably couldn't live with myself if I had somehow contributed to her death even without having executed an actual hand in it, her blood would still remain on my hands, the aftermath of it will remain embedded in my mind, haunting me every second.

I tighten my grip on the railing. "You'll be safe with me," I say. "I promise."

"I'm not afraid of that." Katniss says in a hushed voice.

"Then what?" I ask, feeling completely lost.

She bites down on her lower lip before answering. "Losing you."

I bring her into my arms. "You have me," I reassure. "I'm not going anywhere."

We stay put, holding each other until I coax her to sit down. We settle on the cold ground where she curls up against my side, allowing me to keep my arms securely wrapped around her. Together we stare out the balcony, watching the night's events continue on without a care in the world. This part of the country is spending their night out without any worries, without any pity or guilt whatsoever. They're selfish, inconsiderate, and heartless. The other part of the country is suffering, starving, curled up in their makeshift beds as they wish and pray for a better day for their loved ones. How can we co-exist in this dysfunctional land where nothing makes sense and everything remains unbalanced? The answer is we can't. But I can't guarantee that things will change. I'm not a fortune teller so I can't tell what the future holds, but I'm sure not even a psychic would be able to predict the outcome of this. What I do know is that Katniss and I don't belong here, complying as the Captiol's minions. But what other choice so we have? It's not about us, it's about our families depending on us to return back home to them.

"Are you scared?" Katniss asks, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

"I'm not scared of dying," I say, my voice oddly restrained. "like the actual, what will happen after, or even the pain of it, but I don't want to go when there's still so much to live for." I hold Katniss tighter, feeling her heart beat in time with mine. "Even if it doesn't seem like it at times."

"Sometimes," she says wistfully. "I like to pretend that there were no rulers or killers, that we could all live in peace."

I sigh at the hopeless thought. Wouldn't it be nice though?

"I wish we didn't have to pretend," I whisper.

"I know," Katniss grips my hand. "but I try to keep faith that one day the world could be a better place for everyone." Her voice is forlorn now. "I only hoped I would be around to see it."

"You will," I promise.

The streets echo with noise, drowning out the rest of our internal thoughts and struggles. There's no way of knowing what's going to happen next, but I hope we'll be ready for whatever it is that comes our way.

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><p><strong>Author's Note (continued): Yeah, hi. Remember me? Probably not. Um, well, you see, my teachers have bombarded me with countless essays and reading assignments and exams that I don't have time for much else. I don't have a break between my classes anymore so I don't have any free time to write. I have no intention of abandoning the story but all I ask is for everyone to keep being patient with me. I was listening to a lot of different music while writing this, so the "fortune teller" bit was from Maroon 5 and the "rulers or killers" bit was from Kid Cudi. Thank you to everyone who's still around and supporting my writing, you mean the world to me. Best wishes, everyone. Until next time. I'll be sure to have a longer chapter for you then.<strong>


	22. Let Them Come Find Me Now

**Author's Note: I added an extra scene that I felt was left out from the book and movie. There were so many ways I thought about doing this chapter so I hope I did it justice. Also, I'm so overwhelmed by your kind reviews. I know I don't reply to them but I DO read them and I enjoy the feedback, it means a lot since I'm writing for your enjoyment :) Don't forget, you can talk to me via Twitter, my username is Team_MAI or via Tumblr, my URL is the same as it is here: asdarknessdescends, to keep in touch about the fanfic. I have ideas and no one to share them with when I'm writing so if anyone is interested in being a part of the process, please don't be shy about personally contacting me through these links. From now on, I will be keeping a record on my Bio page to let you know where I am on updating. Lastly, you should all give a big hand to "The Killers" and "Muse" for making such amazing new albums that have inspired me to write. And I need a beta. Please. I'm lazy about editing and I'm a horrible typist so excuse any errors.**

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><p>They will not force us,<strong><br>**They will stop degrading us,**  
><strong>They will not control us,**  
><strong>We will be victorious**  
>- <strong>"Uprising" by Muse

In the morning, Portia escorts me to a hovercraft where all tributes will be taken to the hidden location of the arena. Stylists travel in another way and they will meet with their individually selected tribute for final preparations before the initiation. We form lines, boys on one side and girls on the other. I'm directed into a metal chair between the boy from District 2 and the boy from District 11. Peacekeepers snap at us to fasten our seat belts while a woman wearing a white lab coat approaches us. She's carrying something shiny and metal-like in her hands. It looks like a cross between a gun and a large medical instrument, shaped like a cylinder. It glows inside, an electric blue color. The woman walks up to Cato first, taking his arm and zapping her device against the top of his skin where it pierces through, making a sharp zapping sound as it injects something into him. I stare at his face, locking in on his tense, narrowed eyes and impish grin. He didn't even flinch. _Is he already adapted to having a high tolerance for pain?_ I wonder. That's not good.

The woman moves on to the next person which just so happens to be me. I hold out my arm before she can ask for it. There's a stab of pain as the device pokes through my skin with its large needle. With another press of a button, a piece of glowing metal seeps down into the inside of my forearm. It blinks rapidly, pulsing against my flesh and bone. I gasp in disgust. _What are they doing to us?_

"What is this?" I ask in horror, nearly gagging at the sight of it. The thing has flickered off but I can _feel_ it, scraping against my bone when I flex my muscle.

"Your tracking device."

I should have expected this. They're still treating us like animals. Now our each and every move will be traced by the Gamemakers. Every enhancement they make to us is like stripping off a piece of our humanity, degrading us further below them until we finally disintegrate under their illogical command. It's all very sickening, and I hate being a part of this corrupt plan, but there's nothing I can do about it given the state I'm in.

The hovercraft takes off, swaying us before our backs press hard into the metal chairs as we move at high speed, climbing into the sky at a high acceleration. There are no windows around, but that's all part of the Capitol's allure for us, to keep us in suspense about the secret location of the arena until we're finally a part of it, surrounded in its depths like animals prepared for slaughter. I begin to calculate back to the earlier Games, the different places I've seen the tributes get herded off to. There was a rain forest, a desert, an area with lots of snow, an old abandoned ruin made of crumbling rubble and stone... It would be almost _too_ lucky if we got landed in a place, say, like the woods back at home. But I try to hope for the best. Anywhere where water is an easy source to find and that'll be fine with me. Water is a necessity.

I look over at Katniss to see her asking the woman something before she gets injected with her tracker. She looks agitated, rubbing her arm once the woman moves on to the next tribute.

The hovercraft flies steadily for awhile longer. For all I know we've been flying around in circles to make it seem like we've traveled far from the Capitol. Eventually, the aircraft decelerates into a steep climb and everything goes black as we head underground. After some jerky movements that rattle us in our seats, we come to a complete stop. Everything goes silent. Before any of us can react, the woman from before appears once again, standing in the middle of our separated area. "You will leave this compound by district order." she says, not looking at any of us. She sounds like an automated machine. "Peacekeepers will escort you to your personal stylists. There, you will enter the starting base where your launching pad will take you into the arena. Understood?"

No one answers, which is fine, I don't think she was expecting a response anyway because suddenly she fires off with, "District One,"

Marvel and Glimmer move together like a tiger and antelope; Marvel with his head high, back straight, cheesy smirk, and poised fighting stance as he strolls on along his merry way. He doesn't look very tough, but I know he'll be pretty handy with that spear he's so fond of. Glimmer moves elegantly, her limbs moving in perfect sync, her arms sway delicately as her lean legs stride forward with purpose.

"District two,"

Cato rips off his seat belt and leaps out of his seat in one swift movement. His enthusiasm is literally seeping out of him. Like he said in his interview, he's prepared, vicious, and ready to go. Clove throws back her seat belt with a loud thudding sound and steps forward, slinking next to Cato like a silent, deadly shadow. They walk together out of the hovercraft, disappearing behind the automatic sliding doors.

The Careers are fearless.

The other districts go on and it's not until Rue nods at me before making her lithe exit, practically jogging to keep up with Thresh's quick, menacing pace that I start to feel the strange mix of dread and exhilaration start to kick in. I have to be strong. There is no room for weakness.

"District twelve,"

I rise out of my chair after extracting the restraint from my lap. Katniss meets me half way, our walking pace already matched to each other after our time as hunting partners. I take her hand and gently squeeze it for moral support as we make our descend. Now is the time to do some grand romantic gesture for the last time and I can't bring myself to do it.

We pass through the doors and there are four Peacekeepers waiting for us. We move slowly towards them.

"I'll find you," I promise, but it's more like I'm trying to convince myself that the both of us will still be alive after the blood bath.

Her voice is strangely calm and settled when she says, "We'll be fine."

We're in front of the white suited men now. I turn to face her, our gazes meeting for what I hope is not the last time.

"I love you, Katniss."

"I love you, Gale."

And then we're separated, our pairs of Peacekeepers, literally moving us apart as they haul us in opposite directions by batting their guns at our sides.

"Let's go," one of them huffs.

"Get a move on," says another.

I'm lead into a long hallway that ebbs outward into a large wall with one door to accompany it. One of the Peacekeepers walks past me to open the door. The other man points his gun at my back. "Go in," he directs. His voice is low and ruthless. There is no question that will not be reluctant to shoot if I try to make any sudden move to escape. I wonder how many times it's happened if they're equipped to handle things this way, so brusquely.

I do as I'm told. Once I'm past the threshold the door slams closed and locks with a loud _click_. I whip around, gauging my surroundings. It's basically emptiness, bare walls and a steel tables cast aside against the edge of the room. The launching pad, a glass and metal tube, is in the back corner, shining and beckoning like a lure that has been cast to retrieve its capture.

Portia, who had been sitting at the table, stands up. "Hello, Gale."

"Hello," I answer back, my voice dreadfully hollow.

She picks up a piece of material. It's dark, bulky, and it rustles when it chafes against itself. "I have your jacket," she says, holding it out in front of her, stretching the clothing out so the arm holes are facing me. "Turn around,"

I do so, allowing her to put the jacket on me. It's not too warm, it's pretty lightweight, but it keeps my skin more protected than the black T-shirt I've been ordered to wear into the arena along with my forest green cargo pants, and worn combat boots.

I turn back around, zipping up the jacket as I do so.

"Nervous?" Portia asks, her heavily dark set eyes are wide with concern. She straightens out the collar of my jacket, fixing the hood in the back so it adjusts well around my neck.

I nod, too afraid to speak. I've left nothing unsaid in my life. I can honestly say that and be okay with it.

Portia pushes her cool hands on either side of my face and pats my cheeks. "You'll do great, just make your district proud and trust your instincts."

"Okay," I reply somberly.

Then, from the walls, an invisible voice blares out, "Thirty seconds."

Portia drops her hands while I freeze in place. What do they do to tributes who disobey and refuse to get on the launching pad? Will the Peacekeepers come in and kill me on the spot? My thoughts, muddled and confusing vanished when Portia spoke again. "It was a privilege and an honor to be your stylist."

"Thanks," I answer boastfully. "I'm glad I got picked for you, too."

She nods, smiling with tight lips. I can tell she's holding back her emotions for my sake. "Best of luck to you. We're all rooting for you and Katniss."

_Along with everyone else in District 12, so, no pressure._

I swallow hard.

The loud speakers go off again, this time it declares, "Ten seconds."

I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself.

"Goodbye, Portia." I say, because in the depths of my heart I know that this may very well be my final goodbye ever. I turn and walk over to the launching pad, approaching cautiously, using my usual hunter's tread of a soft, even pace. The door revolves, sensing my presence. I walk into the tube, firmly planting my feet down on the circular platform. Once I'm inside, the door closes quietly with an electrical swish that cuts off all sound afterward. Soundproof. So no one can save you if you scream, I bet.

After the count of four heartbeats, the metal plate beneath my feet whirls awake and starts pushing up, sending me straight into level ground once more. There's another sound above my head, a hatch opening. Air bursts forth along with blinding sunlight so bright that all I can see is white until I blink my eyes multiple times. When I look again, I'm on my pedestal, directly in front of the Cornucopia. There's grass, and trees – I can already detect the fresh smell of pine and the brininess of fresh water nearby.

I smirk. What luck. Maybe the odds _are_ in my favor.

The official countdown continues. I look around the the circle of tributes. We have sixty seconds to stay in our places before the gong can release us or else we're blown to smithereens if we step off any sooner. Katniss is five people down to my left, staring down the large bounty of food, containers of water, weapons, medicine, garments, and fire starters. I whip my gaze to see what's caught her eye. That gleam in her eyes, the position of her feet... I know it's something she will risk her life for. Then I see it, resting on a mound of blanket rolls, a silver sheath of arrows and a bow that's already strung. It's the same one from the training center. And right next to it, is another set just like it. One for the each of us, it has to be. But who can reach them first?

I can't run very fast, but fast enough. At school I got decent times on average compared to the other boys in distant races. I know I can get to them while everyone else is distracted, but then what? How can I get away unmaimed?

Katniss locks eyes with me. She motions towards the Cornucopia with a quick glance.

I know Haymitch would not approve. He warned us: "_When the gong sounds, get the hell out of there. You're neither of you up to the blood bath at the Cornucopia, Just clear out, put as much distance between yourselves and the others, and try to find a source of water."_

But it's no use. Our time is now, and I've made my decision.

I nod.

Katniss nods in return, poising back into her runner pose.

I level my feet, putting my left first so I can propel off with my right. I stay locked onto my goal. I must not fail on this, it's only running. Then it'll be the hard part – escaping.

The timer stops. There's a single moment of stillness that implores shock, anxiety, and fear all bundled into one feeling of apprehension among all of us. The gong sounds. We run.

I sprint as fast as I can, cursing myself. _This is so stupid! I am going to die in this attempt!_

At least I'll die knowing that I helped Katniss higher her survival rate.

Katniss runs faster than any of the rest of us. She reaches the bow while we're all still spreading out, surrounding the premises to gather our weapon of choice. The Careers take off, streaking into the confines of the Cornucopia. I hurry after them, pushing my legs as far as they can go against the flat, open stretch of ground. Katniss throws the second bow and sheath at me, heaving it into the air the way we usually toss things to each other. I grab for it, catching it clumsily as I try not to stumble when I hold my hands out for both, unbalanced by the uneven weight distribution. I sling the sheath around my arm, resting it against my shoulder blades as I grasp onto the bow.

"Go!" I say urgently, hiding Katniss from view as Cato races past, leaping wildly as he makes a grab for the wall of weaponry.

Katniss runs off, and Thresh comes through, swinging a large scythe back and forth in front of him at anything in his path. He's looking at me. I'm his next victim. He swings at me, and I barely manage to dodge by dropping down and rolling on my knees. When I stand up, as disoriented as I am from the sudden barrel roll, I happen to glimpse from twenty feet away, the boy from District 9 is fighting Katniss over a backpack. He's clawing at her face, and she's kicking his side. Clove throws a knife in their direction and it sinks into the boy's back. He chokes out blood and slumps to the ground. Clove keeps running, clutching another knife, pulling back her arm as she aims.

I don't think, I react. I pull out an arrow and prepare to strike. I string it to the bow and move to aim, but before I get to shoot, something slams into me and strikes me down. I roll over again, seeing upside down as Clove's knife goes flying. I shout out wordlessly. I scramble to get back on my feet. I heave myself up and spin around back up in vertical form. I see Thresh getting up as well. He's cornered by Marvel and a younger boy. Marvel throws his spear. Thresh knocks it aside with a swish of his scythe before going in for some hand-to-hand combat by pummeling forward and punching him in the face. Blood splatters. The boy, who has a knife in his hand, slinks toward them. He has a large, wicked knife in his hand and he prepares to lunge while Thresh is vulnerable. This time, my hands are already at the ready. I pull the arrow back, and shoot. The boy drops to the ground instantly after my arrow connects through his head. I withhold a sharp gasp. My arms drop. I have become part of what I hate. I'm now a killer, too.

A loud crash startles me. Marvel has been slammed back into a pile of weapons that clatter all around him. Thresh comes around, gauging me with blazing eyes.

"What'd you do that for?" he cries out.

_What_? He's mad that I saved his life?!

I gape at him, at a complete loss for words.

"I don't need your help, twelve," he growls, sending me a threatening glare.

I scowl.

Cato runs at us, swiping his sword back and forth. I don't have a chance to play up defense. He slashes down, aiming for my neck but catching my raised arm after Thresh pushes me out of the way and twists back Cato's wrist before the blade can connect with him. There's searing pain and I can feel the blood seeping out in a slow gush through the exposed slit in my skin. Cato and Thresh face off, snarling and provoking each other. Thresh yells over his shoulder, "_Leave!_ We're even now."

I kick my feet rapidly, struggling to stand. From the corner of my eye, Marvel is getting up as well, trying to reach for his spear. I don't stick around long enough to allow him the change to aim for me. I race away, away from Clove and Glimmer who are yelling at each other. I barely make out, "Leave him, I'll deal with him later" as I escape into the woods, under the familiar cover of shrubs and trees.

There are so many sounds – the leaves crackling under my feet, the wind whistling past, birds chirping and cawing high, musical notes, and... heavy breathing that does not belong to me despite how hard I'm pushing myself. The sound is close, approaching.

I'm being pursed, or at least, I think I am.

I twist back mid-step, moving sideways to look for my pursuer. Only, I'm not being chased. It's Foxface. I see a blur of red hair peeking through the maze of trees. She's trying to outrun someone. I slow down my pace before stepping back and following after her. I'm in full hunter mode. I'm aware of how fast I'm moving, trying to keep my footing as stealth as possible when I propel my body faster.

I see a boy, I have no idea what district he's from, but he's getting closer to her. Foxface tries to lose him, rapidly changing paths in a zig-zag motion but she manages to trip and fall from looking over her shoulder and not seeing the large tree root in her path. The boy is in closer range now, hurrying forward as Foxface hurls back and falls on her side, plowing into the tough dirt. The boy raises his arm and I see his knife preparing to be plunged into its next victim.

I react faster this time than before, already having undergone this scenario moments before. I grab an arrow, pull back, breathe, shoot. I meant to get his head but the arrow sticks through his neck. I hold in a breath as he sinks to the floor. I race over to the pair in time to see Foxface getting back up, leaping over the root and sliding behind a thick tree trunk.

"Wait," I say before she can flee. "I'm not going to..." I don't say it. That would be like admitting that I am indeed a murderer now. I lower my weapon. "Are you okay?"

She comes back around from her hiding spot, face ashen. "Thank you,"

I shrug. Katniss thought she was smart, resourceful, clever, and overall, a girl with some fight in her. I know I had to save her for Katniss, I know she would've wanted me to. She would've done the same.

"Katniss..." she rasps out. My heartbeat quickens. "I just ran into her. She went that way," she points behind me, a little ways to my right. If I hurry, maybe I can catch up to her.

"Okay, thank you." I hesitate before I ask, after all, if Katniss had just run into her wouldn't she have asked her herself? Or perhaps there wasn't time? "Did you want an ally?"

Her eyes widen and her lips tighten. "Maybe. If we meet again." And then she rushes off, scampering away into the thicket of the woods.

I'm about to call after her, but what am I going to say? I snatch up the boy's knife from his cold, curled fingers. I pocket it and rip away his small knapsack to take. I sling it over my other shoulder and start running again. In the distance, I hear the cannon marking off the number of dead tributes. I count twelve blasts. Twelve tributes are already dead. Another twelve, including myself, are still alive. It's only the first hour and half of us are gone.

I slow down to a jog and come down to a walk once I'm sure I've distanced myself a good way off from the others. I sit down by a tree trunk and have a look at my arm. In the midst of all the chaos, I had overlooked the pain. It was a nice cut, thin and shallow. It curved around, like a band.

_I wonder..._

I know this will be painful and unsanitary but I still have to try. I grit my teeth together and pinch my right index finger and thumb together before pressing down into the wound. I stretch my fingers, opening the cut even further. I let out a hiss. I prod my fingers in deeper until I come across the sharp square that is my tracker. I grip one of its tiny metal corners and yank it out. I breathe in relief when the extraction is a success. I laugh like an idiot, completely hysterical.. I look around for a large rock, sniggering to myself at how great this idea is. I can practically hear the Gamemakers getting frantic. I find a smooth, heavy stone and place my tracker on the ground before smashing it apart with the rock. There's the sound of metallic chips breaking and a dull electric snap that dies out a second later. I know, back at the Games' Headquarters, my sensor just vanished without a trace with no logical explanation.

I smirk in satisfaction. _Let them come find me now._

_..._


	23. We're Still Allies

**Author's Note: I'm bad at deadlines, I know. This chapter is long overdue. What do you all think about the Catching Fire teaser trailer?**

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><p>I yank a piece of my jacket until a long shred of fabric rips off. It's long enough for me to wrap around my arm. Once I tie up my injury as best I can, I wonder what to do next. I should probably go looking for that lake... but which direction was that in?<p>

Going back is not a smart decision. There is no doubt in my mind that the Careers would stay gathered there until the rest of us weed each other out. How long would it take for them to get bored of staring at each other and decide to cause more bloodshed?

I heave myself back onto my feet. Like anything else, I must move forward. I take slow, cautious steps. I feel thirsty from running, my mouth is parched, dry as sand in a desert.

Birds continue chirping, carrying on the image of natural wildlife. But nothing is at all that it seems. It feels almost _too_ normal. Of course, that is expected with everything staged the way it is. Not to mention, unlike everyone else (excluding Katniss), I'm not a stranger to being in this kind of habitat. Maybe that's it.

Traveling past the expanse of moss and dirt that slopes upward into a small hill, I find a clearing that looks perfect for hunting. I settle myself in place remembering how back at home, Katniss showed me how to hunt properly. First, I must be as quiet as possible and listen for the sounds of movement. The wind has picked up, but I'm sure it's the Gamemakers trying to plan something. Freeze us to death, perhaps? No, that's not fun for viewers to watch. But they probably want to make it difficult for us to start any fires. It would be another component for us to try to overcome in our tryst for survival. Especially myself at the moment; how can I eat without cooking my game? Raw is not an option.

A harsh gust passes through and something rustles in the bushes. I stagger back and point to shoot.

A pair of dark brown eyes peeks through the coarse leaves. "Wait," a soft voice calls out.

I retract the pull on the bow string. My ears perk up. Could it be?

Rue steps out of the shrubbery, dusting off the dirt and leaves on her clothes. Her hair, poofy, and naturally thick and voluminous, looked extra tangled and frizzy due to the gradual humidity developing in the air.

She smiles shyly and says, "Hi."

I lower my weapon and grin. "I was waiting for you to show up."

Her smile grows. "Did I scare you?"

"A little," I admit. "What were you doing hiding in the bushes?"

She holds out her hand, opening her small fist to let me see the dark red berries she collected.

"You found raspberries?" I ask in surprise.

She nods happily. "Yep! It's all about knowing where to look."

"Have you seen any animals then? I'm trying to catch something."

She shakes her head. "Sorry. I've only seen birds and some insects, like butterflies." She smiles again. "But I think you're in the right place. This is a pretty big clearing."

I nod, taking her observation into account. I let my knapsack drop, lifting the restrain of the strap off my shoulder. "Okay. Do you want to help me?"

"Sure," Rue offers without a second thought before shrinking back. "But I don't know how much help I'll be."

"Are you familiar with making traps?"

"No..."

She smiles in a way that crinkles her eyes and makes her look even younger than she already is, as if she's prepared for a scolding.

I laugh at her expression. "Don't worry, I'll show you."

I start going over the basics of creating a decent snare and Rue listens like an attentive student. She eagerly asks questions and tries her best to follow my every instruction.

"Like this?" she asks, tying a knot through the small loop braids intricately around the tips of her fingers.

My eyes brighten at her quick learning. "Yes, that's great work."

Rue beams. "Oh, good."

I stand up, putting slight pressure on my arm with my other hand now that the would is starting to sting now that the bleeding subsided.

"Did you get hurt?" Rue's attentive eyes don't miss anything.

I open my mouth to answer but hesitate to voice the truth. How much am I allowed to reveal?

"Cato managed to nick me with his sword. It's nothing."

Rue frowns. I can tell by the way she notices my fingers twitching and face hardening in compliance to the pain that she knows I'm not being entirely honest. I look away.

"It's really not as bad as you think," I say nervously, adding a shaky laugh to diffuse the tension.

"I'll go gather some leaves for you."

"And I'll try to find something for us to eat." I compromise. "Meet back here in a few minutes?"

Rue nods.

"Oh, hold on," I reach back into my knapsack I left by my feet, fumbling my hand inside it until I fish out the knife I took from Foxface's attacker. I hand it to Rue handle side first. "Take this with you."

Rue eyes the knife warily, keeping her hands firmly at her sides. "Are you sure? Don't you need it?"

I answer with a half shrug. "Not right now. And anyway, I would feel better knowing you had some form of protection on you."

She slowly raises her right hand, placing her fingers tentatively around the grip before retracting it from my hold. "I'm not sure I could even use this."

I repress from smiling at her innocence. I have no doubt that Rue could apply herself to inflict damage on someone else even to defend herself. But there is no time to hold pleasantries and offer anyone the chance to end your life. Not if you have the power to stop them.

"Hit them wherever you can reach." I advise. "Close your eyes if you have to."

"I'll try," she replies with uncertainty before scurrying off until she blends in with the scenery once more, going where my eyes can't follow.

I trek deeper into the clearing and end up tracking down a small wild turkey. I strike it down sloppily. I had shot its wing and then its neck. I snatch it up and turn back to the assigned meeting place. The manufactured sky has darkened some and I wonder how much time has passed. This is another bit of torture, being locked up and unaware of how long is "too long" or how much internal suffering has been one trick of the mind, easing into a senseless revolution going in an endless skip every lone second.

I look up again. The sky must represent some slightly accurate aspect of the time since it isn't as if they're going to hover a large clock over our heads all day long. Should Rue have been back by now? How long was I gone for?

I decide to allow a few more minutes to pass before I start to worry. After all, it took awhile for me to come across this place to begin with. I'm sure she's on her way back.

I sit down and start compiling an arrangements of twigs and dry leaves. I'm going to start a fire. Not a big one, but enough to cook the meat.

I start counting to myself, for something to do. I plan to go search for Rue when I reach 100, but she arrives right on 74.

"What did you catch?" she asks, lithely moving to blend in with the shadows before plopping down beside me.

"Wild turkey." I answer, continuing to pluck off its colorful feathers.

"Huh." Rue murmurs, crossing her legs. "I wouldn't have thought those would be around."

"I guess I got lucky."

Rue reaches into her pockets and brings out a handful of thin, glossy looking leaves. "I found a few of these. I hope they help."

"What do you do with them?" I inquire, skeptical on the plant's healing properties. I am very unaware of pinpointing any plants or herbs that can be used for beneficial purposes.

"You have to chew on them for a few minutes," Rue splits her share so we have two leaves each. "And once they're soft enough, you can apply them to your wound. It's meant to help minimize the pain and accelerate your healing process."

"Sounds good to me."

We plop the leaves in our mouths and chew deliberately while I prepare our meal. The leaf is slightly bitter, almost minty, and rough on the tongue. My stomach rumbles at the flavor rippling down my throat, a teaser of actual food to sedate the pangs of hunger.

Together, Rue and I work to build a small spit to roast the turkey. Our teamwork is conventional. There's nothing but the simple acquaintance between us and yet we still manage to communicate through basic mannerisms. When I motion for something, she silently comes to my aid, filling in for momentary lapses while functioning.

When the meat has been cooked enough, we put out the fire and retreat to another location so we can eat without worry of any sneak attacks.

Rue nibbles delicately into her food, and I assume it's her usual way of eating, the way my brothers and I eat rather slovenly, but then I notice how she grates her teeth against the bone, sucking on the last stray bits of meat that I realize she's been accustomed to settling for tiny portions of food to fill her up.

"There's more, you know." I point at another leg. "Help yourself."

"It's okay," she says, sounding almost guilty.

I take the leg and replace it with the bone in her hand. "Go ahead," I allow. "You can't let me eat this all by myself."

She smiles impishly, prodding the tender meat before biting into it. "You know," she says after a few bites, reproaching in a subtle tone. "you're pretty nice."

I stifle a laugh. "You didn't think I was nice before?"

She shares a laugh too. "I did think you were nice, but in a polite way. I thought you felt sorry for me."

"No, I knew I could trust you. That's probably why I can be myself around you."

It takes her a moment to reply with, "That makes sense."

I decide to joke about it some more, just to tease her. "So you thought the Careers were nicer than me?"

Rue giggles, most likely picturing how silly that would be. "No, they're pretty brutal. I've seen how they treat each other..." she takes another bite of her food, leaving me in short suspense. What horrific things has she encountered? "But I think you could be tougher than all of them, if you wanted to."

Could I really be more savage and destructive than the Careers? That's a dangerous thought. But it's not that far off. I already killed someone in cold blood. I can't risk being jaded into a person I don't want to be. I won't let the Capitol have that control.

"I should tell you," I lower my voice, no higher than a muffled whisper. I cover my mouth for good measure, pretending to scratch my nose and wipe my face. "My tracker's gone."

I see the gears clicking in her mind, eyes shining as she puts one and one together as her gaze darts directly to the wound on my arm.

"You're not safe with me. They'll find you."

I drop my hand, bowing my head low. "I'm sure they already did, when you came along. I figure they're wondering what to do with me."

"They won't be wondering for long."

There's no need for further explanation nor any point in staying paranoid by jumping to conclusions. It doesn't require much imagination to concoct the worst scenarios the Gamemakers are most likely to come up with.

We have to separate.

"So much for being allies,"

Rue smiles, keeping her voice light, positive. "We're still allies. We can take care of each other from far away."

I appreciate that. It's definitely something I can contend to do to repay for her generosity. At any rate,, she's the one person I can trust right now. Until I find Katniss. And I _will_ find her. Hopefully soon, rather than later.

Rue gives me to rest of the leaves which I exchange with –

"An arrow?" Her small, nimble fingers brush against the foreign metal. "I don't have a bow. I can't shoot like you can Katniss can."

Her excuses wane on me. "That doesn't matter," I say confidently. "You can use it as defense. You know, deflect a sword better than I could, maybe?"

Rue grasps the rod-part in her small fist with more fierceness than I thought she was capable of. I know she can come up with brighter ideas than I can. She must already be planning. "I think you're putting too much faith in me," she admits in a small voice, nearly disheartening. "But I'm not going to let you down. Or my district."

"Good."

She tucks the arrow into the belt of her jacket, wedging it to fit against her tiny waist. Then, she hurdles over to me, nearly knocking all the wind out of me, her arms thrown out before curling around my midsection in a strong embrace. The familiarity of it rings back my memory to my siblings bolting over and slamming into me whenever I returned from hunting (their idea of affection) or Prim rushing over to greet me when I happened to visit the Everdeen household. But it's not them with me today, it's Rue. This young girl who has hopes and dreams, too young to end.

I pat her head gently, laughing quietly to diffuse the tension. "Come on now," I say, squeezing her shoulder to exude some solace and comfort. "There's no doubt you'll end up finding me again, okay?"

She nods but I sense her uncertainty. Her eyes seem sharp around the edges, her eyelids drawn down more, giving the appearance of maturity as opposed to her usual innocent, doe-eyed look.

"You can take this back," her hand reaches into her pocket, my knife shining into view as the sunlight glints off the blade when her fingers twist around the handle.

"Keep it. That way you have to find a way to return it back to me."

She seems content with the arrangement, a gentle smile blossoms across her lips. "I will," she promises.

"Be careful," I tell her the way I had that night we officially met during our elevator ride together after the interviews with Caesar.

"You too," she replies in the way she also had back then. It doesn't seem like that long ago because it had literally taken place only yesterday. How can that be?

I walk to the East, or at least, what I believe is East. I'm basing my sense of direction off the guidance of the artificial sunlight. I cast a backward glance due to many things, guilt, sadness, loneliness, just to make sure Rue left without an issue. But she's gone without a trace. If I didn't know any better, I would've believed I had made up the entire exchange. Then I look up and see a small shadow scurrying up one of the trees overhead.

I smile, elated at her precaution for safety above all else. If she's going to keep to her end of the bargain, so should I.

It's almost like a game of hide-and-seek between myself, the Gamemakers, and the remaining tributes. Will I find them first or will they find me?

I can almost hear the inaudible chanting: _Come out, come out, wherever you are..._

I reject any stipulation of having to be the one sought after. I would rather be the one seeking.

"Ready or not," I mutter under my breath. "Here I come."


	24. That Must Be It

**Author's Note: Tell me when Katniss should appear. Next chapter or later on?**

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><p>The arena is nothing like the woods back home. The trees, the plants, the grass, the moss, the dirt. It's all different. It's artificial, I tell myself. I can't seem to adjust to it.<p>

Most of the time, my instincts tell me where to go. Right now, I'm getting signals telling me I'm plain lost.

The skylight is changing, growing darker and darker as the minutes pass. I figure I better find a place to settle before I wind up walking around in circles. I move forward, keeping true for what feels like an hour. The sun eventually sets, taking the remaining light with it, and then there's nothing for me to make out other than shadows of trees and voices... Wait, voices?

I crouch down, securing a hiding spot behind a boulder as I strain to listen. I hear a deep, low-pitched voice talking with a semi-slow speech but loud enough to decipher. A leader's voice. A boy's voice belonging to Cato.

"We haven't run into either of them yet," he sneers, voice biting.

A girl answers him, voice trill and girly as she placates him. Glimmer. "We will. They can't run forever."

I have no doubt it's me and Katniss they're talking about. Who else would they be so keen to eliminate from the competition?

"Right." Cato agrees, sounding more confident. "After we get rid of one, the other will follow."

I grit my teeth, feeling horrified at the idea of the Careers finding Katniss before I do. It makes me sick to my stomach but I have to hold myself together. If they find me, I'll have no choice but to fight. The odds would certainly _not_ be in my favor in a brawl of four against one.

Their foots veer closer, much too close, enough for me to hold in my breath and hope the tree on my right provides enough shadow to conceal me.

"What's that?"

I've been spotted.

I grip my bow, about to pull my arm back and whip out an arrow from my quiver when someone else speaks up.

"Over there, there's smoke."

I do not dare turn my head. I merely lift my gaze towards the hologram night sky. A lone wisp of thick black smoke slithers upward, followed by small bright sparks shooting up from behind.

"Let's go," Cato orders, taking the lead again. I hear his footsteps racing as he sprints away, with the others at his heels.

I breathe again, feeling eternally grateful and yet, immensely guilty. Someone else is about to get killed instead of me.

I wretch myself back up on my feet, ready to retreat in case the Careers decide to come back. However fast I run, I don't move quick enough to drown out the agonizing scream that follows a moment later. I cringe in fear of the voice belonging to someone I know, but either way, I'll never get the sound of it out of my head. My ears ring as it continues to echo: "No! Please, don't kill me!" The cannon sounded and then there is nothing.

The air goes still, slicing away all the noise and any connection with the outside world.

I'm not satisfied until I cover about a mile of distance between myself and the Careers. But now I've lost sight of which direction I've gone.

The air feels cooler here. Fresh, dewy. The moisture level must mean water is somewhere near by. I check the dirt under my boots, noting how the soil is damp, making it easier to step across. The water has to be close.

With nothing to guide me other than my aching feet, I search for a river, or even the lake I saw when we arrived. My eyesight goes blurry as I struggle to keep them open, squinting to make sense of the dark shapes all around. It's terribly dark out; I can hardly see where two steps ahead of my feet, and because of this, it's no wonder I end up slipping and find myself tumbling down the forest slope, smashing against dirt, moss, leaves, and branches that scratch my skin and tear at my clothes. I slide down further, moving with more speed, so I kick out my feet to slow down my fall. Instead, gravity propels my body to flail, curl forward, and land in a heap, on my back, thudding into a bed of stones and springy ferns that cushioned my fall enough to keep my head from slamming into the rocks.

I roll onto my side, my injured arm protesting at the strain of pain trickling down from my elbow to my fingertips. Still, I slowly raise myself up into a sitting position, feeling slightly disoriented but nonetheless I am able to stabilize the image of the shiny, crystal-like reflection of a running bed of water sparkling right before my eyes.

Not the lake, but a river.

I nearly break into a run, anticipating to seek relief for my parched throat and my dehydrated body but I remain on guard. I pick myself up again and approach the river bed with careful prudence in case another tribute happens to be around. Precaution is key.

The water beckons, cool and glistening. The rivulets stretch out like fingers, seeping through the rocks surrounding its space. With slow, steady footing, I press my feet at the edge and crouch down in an effort to stay out of plain sight if anyone looks this way.

First, I dangle my hands into the stream, cupping the water and splashing it in my face. All the sweat, dirt, and grime washes out, leaving my skin moist and fresh. The douse of cold water whirs my body to feel more awake and desensitized to the fatigue weighing me down.

Unfortunately, I don't have any way of purifying the water to drink it without risk of contamination but there isn't another choice.

I remove my makeshift bandage and apply water to the my cut. It appears less gruesome than before. No longer bright with blood but the skin still isn't healing much. A wound in this manner requires stitches, something I would have to ask Prim and Mrs. Everdeen for, but right now the most I can do is keep the wound clean. A low hiss escapes me as I sink my arm in the water, the coldness dripping through, pooling inside my wound. I tenderly scrub away at the exposed skin as to not create any irritation or make the bleeding start again.

After enough cleansing, I apply two leaves to cover the slit, and I rinse off my makeshift bandage wrap before circling it back in place. It's somewhat difficult to tie with the leaves slipping out of place but I manage, tugging the ends with my teeth. The pain tinges when I flex my hand, but hopefully it won't be too bad by tomorrow.

I gulp down some water, ignoring the tang of dirt and who knows what else, hopefully nothing poisonous. Water is water, I'll take what I can get.

Feeling replenished, I search for a place to rest for the night, deciding the spot by the low, drooping tree with suffice. I bring out the rope from my knapsack, coiling it around the nearest tree branch, and adjusting the knot until it forms the trap I learned in the Training Center. Anyone who dares come to close will be yanked into the air, alerting me in a surprise wake up call, which is better than the alternative of never waking up again.

I curl up next to a leafy fern, using it as a camouflage. Using my knapsack for a pillow, I shift it until my head sinks comfortably against it. The sound of nature lulls me, bringing back memories of home, the early morning hunts with Katniss...

The thought of her causes a lump to rise in my throat. I hope she's alright. She has to be.

The Capitol anthem blares through the arena, and the night sky changes, the digital backdrop fades to bring up the hologram of the Capitol seal. The Gamemakers keep it straight and simple, merely showing head shots and district numbers compared to the grotesque montage the viewers get to see through the broadcast. You would think it's bad enough to watch your loved one get killed off, but then have to see it again through the recap... It would be emotionally scarring.

According to the frames, the girl from District 3 is gone. The boy from District 4, the one who went after Thresh, the one whose life I ended. The District 5 boy is shown. District 6 and 7 are gone. The boy from District 8 who chased after Fox Face and ended up as my second victim. The girl who was also from District 8. District 9 and 10 are also eliminated.

That must be it, I think. There were only thirteen cannon shots heard. Rue, Katniss, and I all made it through the first day.

I feel relief for a moment, but then there's another picture. A picture of me, plain as day, dark hair, gray eyes, stony expression with the number twelve next to my face.

I blink once, twice. It's still up there. It's not an illusion.

The Capitol seal returns, the music plays again and ends abruptly. The sky returns to normal, fake stars clustered over the painted black night, and the sounds of the forest resume.

My hands shake. My entire body is shaking. I breathe deeply, fighting the urge to scream as my thoughts implode.

My family. Katniss. Rue. Haymitch. The stylists. District 12. All of Panem.

_They think I'm dead._

…_  
><em>


	25. A Matter of Time

**Author's Note: This story is still alive because of all your kind reviews, so thank you!**

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><p><em>Three guns and one goes off<strong><br>**One's empty, one's not quick enough**  
><strong>One burn, one red, one grin**  
><strong>Search the graves while the camera spins_

**- Tessellate by Alt-J**

I awaken in another daze, temporarily groggy and muddled as I assume my usual morning mannerisms. I rub the sleep out of my eyes, and as I stretch, the pricks against my back do not feel anything like the cushion of my cot. I yawn, preparing to swing my legs down and walk on outside, go off to hunt, go off to school, or attend to whatever it is that awaits me. I roll over and my face meets a pile of dirt.

My body jolts upright. I'm already outside. The sunlight is beating down harshly, bright and shining more than seems normal, and burning with the power with a thousand artificial lights, I imagine.

I'm clearly not at home, nor am I on the train, or in the Capitol.

I'm in The Hunger Games.

And I'm still alive.

But everyone thinks I'm dead.

The events from the previous day reel through my mind like a video projection, and the memory of it all creates an aching in my mind and a longing in my chest. My mother must be crying her eyes out, mourning for another loved one. My mother rarely ever cries, but she did when she accepted the news that her husband was never returning home. And now she thinks she lost her son.

The Capitol and their cruel humor.

I worry for my brothers. Did their faith in me extinguish? Do they believe I let them down after I promised I wouldn't?

And Katniss... She might be driven to fight to defend my honor. She's far too strong to show weakness.

What did the Gamemakers even use to show during the playback? Did they doctor the scene where Cato slashed me to make the attack look fatal?

But there's also the cameras, and the cameras would have come across me. Unless the Gamemakers are cutting me out of the Games completely, and removing the footage before the audience becomes aware.

I suppose, in a way, a completely morbid way, this is what I wanted. I never wanted any part of this and I made that intention perfectly clear back in the Training Center: _"I look forward to seeing what you have in store for me,"_ and removing my tracker was a big tip off, perhaps the final straw the Capitol would tolerate. It's somewhat of a shame they didn't put up more of a fight.

Oh, I'll show them! I'll kill off the remaining tributes, aside from a few comrades, and then the Gamemakers will have no choice but to reveal me. Then I'd like to see the look on the face of that scoundrel Seneca Crane. I bet this was all his brilliant idea – kill off the underdog, he's looking for trouble. And because the Careers couldn't finish me off, the Gamemakers took things into their own hands and faked my death.

But it's only a matter of time.

The flurry of all these notions attacking my mind after having woken up does nothing to rid my foul mood. But I haven't got time to sit around and wallow, for the sound of a cannon breaks the silence, alerting everyone how fast death comes even at the break of day. It's predictable and unavoidable like the rising of the sun. Someone's time has set. I won't know who the unlucky individual is until the recap tonight. That is, if I manage to stay alive until then.

I pack up my things and double check not to leave any solid trace of my presence behind before moving out. Now the question is, should I head downriver or turn back?

There's no point in turning back, I tell myself. Forward then.

I don't hear any birds, and considering the daylight, they should be out and singing. It's not a big deal or anything, but it has the hunter side of myself questioning if something in the area is off, an occurrence about to strike at any given moment.

It becomes apparent, about ten feet away, the forest looks different. The air is hazy, and not with fog or mist but smoke. There's a fire, but where is it?

The sky gives nothing away this time. No smoke, no embers. Meaning, this fire is nor man-made.

Great. The Gamemakers plan to roast us.

I don't know which is worse, being burned or frozen to death?

I hadn't expected to die this way, unless it was a desperation move if the Games were taking too long to complete. However, there are more than enough tributes to battle each other, and the point of the Games is to "fight to the death" not die off from natural causes, or causes created by skilled scientists working for the Capitol.

I take a step forward and a deafening – _crack –_ fills the air. I look around to see the massive tree in front of me start to sway and descend in a slow, forceful swing until the stump breaks apart and the trunk collapses. I run away and jump as far as I can, out of its path, right as it comes down in a thundering roar. When that's over, I stand up straight and sneer at the invisible cameras, "Nice try. Getting rid of me with a stupid tree? Go on, try again."

The flames shoot out right after my threat. The fire appears faster than a match being struck ablaze. The fire feeds off the bushes and fallen leaves, using it for kindling to grow, and then it blooms into a wall of burning orange plumes, engulfing everything it touches. The red and orange sparks morph together, real enough to radiate a scorching heat. I can't even inhale without the smoke burning down my throat.

A sharp, piercing scream cuts through the roar of the fire, and with that, I'm sent off running. Being a decent runner does not prove much help as I navigate through the maze of trees. I smack my elbows against a fair few branches and stumble over some upraised roots hiding over piles of leaves, slowing my momentum.

The heat follows me, binding, choking. My eyes sting, and the result is clouded vision, leading me to run straight into a tree head first. But the tree makes a noise of protest, and I see there isn't a tree at all. I ran into someone. My reflexes are too slow from running but I manage to grapple my bow and use it as a defensive shield, holding it up in front of my face.

"Gale?"

The sound of her voice nearly sends me into a frenzy. I lower the bow, and find myself looking right at Katniss, who looks very worn out and confused. I feel a mixture of relief, hope, and love.

I reach out to her but she steps back, eyes wide with fright. "You're dead," she chokes out.

"I'm not,"

Her gray eyes flash. "I saw your name, your face..."

"The Gamemakers," I explain. "They're extracting revenge on me for defying the rules." I hold up my injured arm. "I removed my tracker."

Her face remains emotionless. One thing I admire about Katniss is her ability to stay focused during any given situation. What must she be thinking right now?

"Is this a trick?"

Her words are like a slap to the face. "Why would I lie to you?"

She wraps her hand around her own bow, maneuvering the metal between her fingers with uncanny precision. The bow is low enough not to be seen as a threat, yet high enough on her waist to set into position and shoot in a matter of seconds. "Then tell me something only the real Gale would know."

...


End file.
